


Confluence of Fates

by ashtronaut (apsijfhiKFJASHpSJ340985OHa)



Category: Haikyuu!!, Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe- Innistrad, Angels, Blood and Violence, Devils, Ghosts, Minor Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Vampires, Werewolves, but it doesn't hurt, gothic horror, you don't need to know Haikyuu or MTG to understand the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 35,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apsijfhiKFJASHpSJ340985OHa/pseuds/ashtronaut
Summary: The people of Thraben had always been able to fight their way through the horrors of Innistrad--through vampire assaults, necromancers looking for more soldiers, and from the most twisted among them. The archangel Avacyn's magic had always held fast, holding at bay the constant threats to their survival. But she hadn't been seen for months, and their magic started to wane.Thraben's guard-captain took up the reins of responsibility, ensuring that the main gate would hold, but the assaults continued.Fewer and fewer angels attended the Cathedral's sermons, save for the lone remnant of Flight Alabaster.Outside the city, powerful experiments were on the verge of nascence,Mysterious strangers meet in the dark of night and the chill of morning,And a man is condemned to become the main course in a deadly banquet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> -This story is set on Innistrad, a setting from the trading card game Magic: the Gathering, similar to 1800's Gothic Europe. Most of the humans live in the capital city of Thraben, the port of Nephalia, or outlying villages. The vampires largely exist in the province of Stensia, and the werewolves mostly exist in Kessig, a woodland province. 
> 
> -Haikyuu is an anime about a high school volleyball team. I'm using the characters from the show, but nothing from the plot.
> 
> -Takes place between the original Innistrad set and Dark Ascension. I took a few creative liberties. 
> 
> -Most MTG references from the Planeswalkers' Guide: https://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/savor-flavor/planeswalkers-guide-innistrad-2011-11-02

#### Kessig

 

The person walking towards him was an idiot. Had to be, Kageyama thought, to do something as stupid as travel alone in Kessig. He didn’t even have a _horse_.

The sun had gone down a few hours ago, revealing a full moon, now hidden only by a few clouds. The figure grew more visible as it approached, feet crunching through the leaves on the path.

“Hello!” the figure shouted as he stepped into the clearing. The other members of the group perked up as a gust of wind reached them, wafting the figure’s scent over the area.

Anyone who could survive in the forest by themselves had either lost their mind, or were just as dangerous as everything else. Judging by the scent, at least the latter was true. Kageyama approached the stranger, who had a small stature, fiery orange hair, and fierce eyes.

“What brings you here?” Kageyama asked, an unfriendly tone underlying his words. It was difficult enough to lead a group of five. All the better if the newcomer could manage on his own.

“I’m Shouyou Hinata,” he bellowed, flashing a silver arrowhead from his pocket like a badge of honor. It was customary in Kessig to reveal a piece of silver when meeting someone, even though the metal only had protective power after being blessed by a priest, and was expensive.

Kageyama scoffed. “Don’t be so formal. Everyone already knows.” He held out his hand.

Confused, Hinata gave Kageyama the trinket. “It’s better to be cautious, you know! Maybe someone more _normal_ was hiding in your group, and masked their smell somehow.”

“Whatever.” Kageyama ran his hand over the arrowhead. “This isn’t a good counterfeit. Real silver would be cold, from the outside air. If you’re headed to Thraben, you should at least get it plated.” He didn’t mention that the silver arrowhead in his own pocket didn’t feel cold. It felt hot, even painful, when it touched his skin, but never made a mark.

“Huh! That’s good to know. Thanks--” Hinata hesitated.

“Kageyama.”

“--Kageyama. I was actually wondering if I could stay with your p--”

“Group,” Kageyama interjected.

“--group for a while. I’ve been walking for a few days now, and, well, I’m not used to being alone on nights like these.”

“Fine. You can stay with us for a while.”

“Thanks so much! I promise I’ll be useful! I can cook and set up tents and things like that! I can run fast too, so if we’re being chased or something I can lead them astray, and I can jump really high, for whatever that’s worth--”

“Let me talk!” Kageyama shouted. “We have some rules you need to know.” Hinata stilled.

“Number one: We try to be as far away from settlements as possible. Number two: No changing if at all possible. Number three: Whatever the group does, everyone’s responsible for. Got it?”

Hinata nodded.

Muted red streaks crossed an otherwise gray sky as the sun started to set. The other members of the group organized and put away the tents. They didn’t make eye contact with each other, instead focusing on efficiency. Kageyama and Hinata dug a pit below a tree some ways from the main path, and the rest of the group put the tents into it.

Cold winds swept fog through the trees and into outlying villages miles away, filled with people who had seen their share of gruesome death and were nothing but unfriendly to strangers.

The clouds covering the full moon had almost completely passed. The group members undressed, folding their woolen overcoats and adding them to the tents. A tense, unspoken undercurrent pervaded the scene. Kageyama disguised the completed pile with a brown tarp, mulch, and leaves.

They all stood shivering awkwardly for a moment and stared at the sky. The only comfort to lycanthropy, Kageyama thought, was that it affected everyone at the same time. It almost lessened the familiar, excruciating pain.

Nesting birds took flight at the group’s ensuing chorus of screams. Cracking sounds followed, signaling the shifting and realigning of bones. Muscles grew, grotesquely strengthening their upper backs and arms. Fur sprouted, blanketing the fearsome creatures with blacks, silvers, and streaks of deep red.

The mind was always the last to fall to the curse, a final insult to the afflicted. Kageyama felt his body rise on his hind legs, assuming a dominating stance. His eyes, now adept at seeing in the dark, landed on Hinata, who mirrored his stance. Hinata’s reddish-brown fur bristled in a challenge, and the others backed away.

_Shit_ , Kageyama thought, before his mind fell completely.


	2. Chapter 2

#### Stensia

 

A few hours earlier, and a good distance to the west, Tooru Oikawa was having an excellent day. It was one of his favorite days of the year--the start of the Court of the King. He had volunteered to help pick the latest “royalty” to see the poor soul’s fearful expressions as they realized how doomed they were. The holiday was cruel, like cats toying with a mouse. But, Oikawa mused, even predators deserved their fun once in a while. There was also something to say about the decorum of the whole affair. He and his family were monsters, but they could certainly put on a show.

He took the lead of his party, along with a fellow prince, a newly anointed Voldaren named Rowan. Their stallions trotted  down a quaint dirt path to the gate of a tiny farming community miles away. A guardsman opened the gate for them. Oikawa saw how the man quaked when he gave a wink.

“You know the rule, right?” the guard asked, trying to hide how his voice shook. “You promise not to come here for another year, except for this?”

“Yeah, yeah. We know. You should consider yourselves lucky.” Oikawa said, smirking as he led his horse through the gate. Very few villagers were out today, as was usual. Only those too old or too young braved the cobbled streets.

He gestured at a few he saw were looking at him from their windows, too curious to stay hidden, or too naive to think he wouldn’t notice. Someone from behind him went in and took them out to the street, creating a row of people in the town square. Rowan did the same until there was a lineup of eight.

“How about that one?” Rowan asked, pointing to one of his choices. He was a well-built man in his twenties, wearing a glare as strong as his jaw as if daring Oikawa to pick him. His arms crossed in front of him, showing at least a hint of nerves. His clothes suggested that he worked as a lumberjack for the village. Sweat glistened on his arms, and Oikawa knew that he would be delicious, especially in three days’ time.

By this point, a crowd had gathered in the square, giving the entourage a wide berth. Oikawa saw how many of the people were praying, whispering words like “Not him” and “Please, not her”. Some of them made the sign of the Collar, moving their hands in a U-shaped arc between their shoulders and down to the solar plexus. Oikawa couldn’t help but notice that most of them were praying for the lumberjack.

“Votes?” Rowan asked. The man held eye contact with Oikawa, his expression one of resignation and pride. Oikawa shivered.

He didn’t raise a hand, but it didn’t matter. The vote was otherwise unanimous, and the stranger closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. When he opened them, Oikawa saw the glint of a tear that was too proud to fall. The others on the podium gave him farewell embraces, their relief unspoken. One of them slipped something into his pocket, but it didn’t look like a weapon. Oikawa turned away, uneasy.

“Is something the matter?” Rowan asked.

One of the stewards offered the man a seat on his horse, which he took without a word.

“Not really. I kind of liked him.”

“All the better, then!” Rowan exclaimed, clapping his friend on the back. “You can sire him before the end of it, and then we'll pick someone else.”

“I’d rather die.” The man spoke from where he rode behind them. Oikawa frowned and turned to face him.

“What’s your name?”

“Hajime Iwaizumi.”

“Tooru Oikawa. Formally, Your Highness Tooru Voldaren, but no one calls me that.”

Iwaizumi nodded. “It’ll be nice to have names to go with the faces of my murderers.”

Rowan laughed. Oikawa signaled for the group to continue, and turned back around. Rowan explained the details of the festivities.

“Let me explain the itinerary before we arrive because you’ll be having too much fun to want to hear the details. Tonight marks the first night of the Court of the King, and there will be food, dancing, and the best our family can offer. Tomorrow, we don’t have anything planned, so that’s open for you to do whatever you want to. Day three is also mostly open. Think about how you want to spend it because the Royal Feast commences at midnight.  Once you step through the doors of the estate, you’ll be treated like a king, and everyone will cater to your every whim.”

Oikawa noticed how Iwaizumi became more withdrawn as they approached the estate. The man's demeanor had become almost blank, except for the panic behind his eyes. He kept looking towards his surroundings for a way out, like a squadron of Avacynian inquisitors. It would've been a miracle. Nowadays, Oikawa could wander far from his home with no consequences except for wrinkles in his cloak. The local inquisitors hadn't left their towns in weeks.

The few buildings dotted between Stensia’s otherwise-barren mountains could be called many things: regal, grand, luxurious. They could not be called “comfortable”, though the inhabitants lived there for decades, even centuries. The word “comfortable” implied a sense of warmth and cheer, with a sprinkle of imperfection, showing wear and life. Not only were the estates cold, by both meanings of the word, they appeared, somehow, untouched.

The two armor-clad guards outside of the Voldaren estate bowed as they approached.

“Your Majesty,” they said in unison. Iwaizumi barely heard them through the sound of his own heartbeat. The iron gate shut behind them with a resounding metallic clang.

A few steps later, and Iwaizumi dismounted. Oikawa and Rowan immediately took to his left and right, but a step or two behind him in deference.

A portrait of a young woman weaved across the estate's massive oak door. Iwaizumi took a deep breath and stepped inside.


	3. Chapter 3

  
  


#### Nephalia

 

Innistrad’s largest and most prosperous city had its share of friendly mercantilism, and the occasional nice view of the harbor, but its distance from the Church showed. Despite less-and-less frequent visits by cathars and inquisitors, Nephalia’s black market thrived. Its citizens shopped for everything, from potions made with angel’s blood to anatomical organs, still fresh from their harvest. The various kinds of “scientists”, said with a hushed tone and a nudge, lived in towers on the city’s hills. The most skillful of them didn’t need to stay hidden, their electric coils perched daringly on their rooftops. Perhaps the cathars were too afraid of them to try to stop them, but it was equally possible they were paid to keep quiet. Most of the citizens thought it was a mix of the two.

Tsukishima felt obligated to check on his protegé. Tadashi seldom went for more than a few hours without barging into his lab and interrupting whatever he was doing, and it just reached the ten-hour mark.

Tadashi had left their tower at twilight the night before, arriving just in time to wake Tsukishima up for his own morning errands. That was the last Tsukishima had seen of him before had locked himself in his lab.  Now, the sky, already dark from rain, was almost pitch black. The full moon was halfway towards its peak in the sky.

Tsukishima rapped on the door of his student’s room.

“This is what happens when you procrastinate!”

“Sorry, Tsukki! I’ll be done in a few minutes so that I can finish this later tonight.”

Tsukishima sighed and started a fire. He had spent a decent amount of silver on a whole pig and some potatoes to celebrate the end of Yamaguchi’s tutelage. The fire snapped and crackled, filling the stone-wrought room with the smell of pork. Tsukishima stretched in front of the stove. He had forgotten how drafty the tower could get, having spent so much time in his lab. There was a severe lack of insulation from the Nephalia storms, and he and Yamaguchi had decided against adding a central fireplace. It would’ve cost silver that they could spend towards equipment. It also would’ve been a hassle to have to disguise their work in front of the renovators, who wouldn’t understand the science and artistry of creating a perfect being from an imperfect material.

Yamaguchi appeared as Tsukishima had started cutting the meat.

“I’m not too late, am I?” He asked bashfully, mouth watering.

“No, I suppose not. Are you ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess!”  Yamaguchi started shoveling meat into his mouth, as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Tadashi. You should have more faith in your work. I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Thanks, Tsukki,” he said, through a mouthful of pork.

“I was in town today, and word from the courier is that the elder wyrm from the harbor disappeared overnight.” Tsukishima’s eyes twinkled. “Nice work.”

“I only took the wings. I guess other people took the rest; you know how much scales go for these days."

Tsukishima smirked. “You mean you weren’t able to single-handedly bring a multiple-ton beast uphill in the dead of night during a thunderstorm? I’m disappointed in you. How are you going to surpass Ludevic with that lack of ambition?”

"Um, do you know how heavy dragons are? It took me hours to get the wings back, and those are the lightest part! I had to cash in more than one favor to get them uphill, Tsukki. More than one.”

Wait a minute, though. That would mean that whoever took the rest of it only had about an hour before it got too bright." Yamaguchi frowned. “That would’ve taken quite a few people or one really powerful lifting spell.”

“Probably the latter. You’re not wrong, though. The black market works in mysterious ways.”

“I haven’t heard anything to this scale being done before, even from the black market.” Yamaguchi took a huge, potato-filled bite. “Anyway, what else is new?”

“Apparently, Mikaeus made a tariff between Thraben and Kessig, so people resent him for that. Also, that new Church of Kinship alternate religion is growing in popularity due to Avacyn abandoning her poor followers.”

“I feel bad for people in Thraben right now, honestly. Between Gisa and Geralf picking on them, and their main source of power being, well, unavailable, I’m glad that we’re as safe as we are.”

“Maybe if they decided to use a more  _ direct _ method, they wouldn’t have to worry about it. The Church of Avacyn could never match us in style or substance, even before she left.”

Yamaguchi frowned. “We’re not like them, though. They value what they see as the ‘sanctity’ of death, so they don’t really have an alternative.”

“I guess they’ll just see the error of their ways. And you’re right. We’re not like them. We’re smart and skilled enough to be more than capable of protecting ourselves.”

Yamaguchi turned towards the fire, avoiding eye contact. “Or we’re lucky enough to not have to.” He continued to gaze at the fire, the flame reflecting in his eyes. “Have you ever wondered how you would’ve turned out if you didn’t have an entire  _ tower _ to do what you want? If you had to spend your resources on staying alive instead of adding another limb or two to whatever you make next?  _ I _ have.”

“But you’ve never had to, either. You’ve just  _ thought _ about it. And thinking doesn’t help too much with staying alive.” Tsukishima looked at his friend and noticed the bags under his eyes and the grease in his unkempt hair. “If it helps, maybe that new Church will help the good citizens of Thraben see another day. And we can agree to disagree. Perhaps you give them too little credit for their unfortunate situation, or I give them too much.”

There was a short pause before he started again. For once, Tsukishima felt the need to lighten the mood. “In other news, the bloodsuckers to our west are celebrating a holiday, some sort of royal court. And there’s a half-price sale on hats at Otwin’s.”

Yamaguchi smiled, before glancing out the tower window. The moon was almost at its peak. He gave a little yelp.

“Tsukki! It’s almost time!”

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

#### Thraben

 

Though Innistrad’s capital city had less of a sense of community than its villages, it made up for it with security. Its huge gate, unbeaten by tides of assault, fronted the city’s gargantuan outer wall. Thraben Cathedral towered over the city, its inner sanctums divided by class, like the rest of Thraben. The elite were guarded by another wall, this one more symbolic than functional, and inlaid with vampire’s fangs. There were still some places within Thraben that could function without worry about security, and the marketplace clamored with people. A few people had just started their day, waking up to their daily activities as the sun rose.

Asahi had never been jolted awake, outside of the figurative sense of the phrase, but he supposed that there was a first time for everything.

“What--!” he shouted, before another electric shock shot through his foot and traveled up his leg. He recoiled instinctively and swung his leg to reach the floor as he leaped out of his bed. Unfortunately, his leg was still numb from the initial attack, and he toppled to his bedroom floor.

“Why me?” he sighed, wisely choosing to stay on the floor.

“You’re especially fun to annoy!” a voice shouted from the foot of his bed.

“Yeah, he’s right. Your hair sticks up in every direction, and you’re just so--” another voice started.

“--Nice! You take everything like a champ, and you have the  _ best  _ frightened yelps I’ve ever heard.” the first continued, peeking his head from the bed to look at the deflated Asahi.

The more Asahi looked at him, the less human he appeared. A spark danced behind his eyes, and he glowed a slight crimson. A forked, lizard-like tail appeared to grow out of him as he kept making eye contact. His skin became redder by the second, and his muscles became more defined until they had nightmarish proportions. Large curved horns and fangs completed the look. The figure resembled one of the lesser demons Asahi grew up learning about in the Church.

“By Her grace!” Asahi shouted, but it came out as a yip like a puppy’s. Once he broke eye contact, the devil immediately reverted to the appearance it usually held--that of a rather short teenage boy.

“See what I mean, Tanaka?” he asked.

“Yeah, that was pretty great, Noya!” the second figure replied, striding over to tower over Asahi. He also usually looked like a teenage boy, but taller, with a shaved head. He frowned thoughtfully.

“In case you’re wondering,” Noya said, pointing at Asahi, “My illusions aren’t very good. I look like this for  _ your _ benefit.”

“Am I supposed to thank you?”

“I wasn’t done! It’s also because you’d give better reactions.”

“Yup! Number one rule of pestering: You shouldn’t try to scare  _ and _ startle at the same time.” Tanaka spoke as if it was a holy verse. For an instant, Asahi wondered if it  _ was _ to them.

“So, are you a devil too?” he asked, gesturing to Tanaka.

“Oh yeah. Look at me long enough, and I’ll totally look like what you saw when you looked at Noya. Just a lot more badass!”

“Hey! I’ll have you know two horns are more symmetrical than three any day. And symmetry is more visually appealing! Ask  _ any _ artist.”

“But what could be cooler than kickass fire shenanigans? I’d like to see you do  _ this _ !” Tanaka turned towards Asahi’s bedroom curtains and made a dramatic sweeping gesture with his arms. The curtains promptly burst into flames, becoming ashes before they hit the floor.

“True, true,” Noya said, clapping. Asahi, now able to use his leg, hurried over to his window and snuffed out what cinders remained.

“You didn’t have to do that, but it’ll take more than curtains to make me late.” Asahi had to focus to sound unintimidated.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes. Both of you could probably kill me, but you haven’t yet, so I think I’m pretty safe.” Devils were often malicious, but never patient. Unless they were working for someone else, Asahi figured he was in less danger than his house was.

“Or maybe... that’s just what we  _ want _ you to think.” Noya cackled. Asahi hurried out of his house. Tanaka shook his head at Noya, but Asahi missed it.

Neither followed Asahi into Thraben Cathedral. Rumors told of a courtyard beholden to only the elite, and certain spots on the floor sounded disturbingly hollow when hit by clumsy feet. Even with its secrets, Thraben Cathedral still held an atmosphere of solemn power. Holy silver collars lined the walls with protective wards, a barrier from the evils present everywhere on Innistrad. People lined the pews and prayed for Avacyn to return, or for Thraben’s walls to hold until she did.

After a few minutes, a priest entered the main hall and took his place at the altar in the front of the massive chamber. A huge mosaic stood behind him, showing an angel with a two-tined spear pinning a massive demon to the ground. Asahi tried to pay attention to the speaker, but his words were mostly a repeat of yesterday’s sermon, and that of the day before.

“One final note: the Lunarch has proposed a raise to the yearly tithe, and the recommended spell fee is three pieces of silver instead of two. Have a blessed day, and may you spend eternity in the ground.”

A few people reiterated the blessing, but many stayed silent. Murmurs of “Would Mikaeus actually do that?” and “Did I hear that right?” swept through the crowd.

“Are you kidding me? You’re raising  _ taxes _ right now when the people around us are  _ dying _ ! How would increasing the cost for a spell help us common folk, who can barely afford the few protections that we have? The wards aren’t good enough anyway!” A burly middle-aged man shouted. Almost immediately, one of the door guards was upon him and locked the man’s hands behind his back before dragging him out of the Cathedral.

“Fine! I see how it is! Maybe someone  _ else _ will listen to me,” the man shouted as the door swept shut behind him. A few people muttered under their breath and followed him out the door in agreement. The rest of the congregation made a point to wait a moment before leaving.

Asahi looked around. He was one of the last still inside. He looked down and made the sign of the Collar before saying one last prayer.

“Could one of you remaining angels smite the two devils in my home? I can’t afford to call a priest, otherwise, I wouldn’t bother you. Thanks. Means a lot. Power be to Avacyn and her Host.”

When he looked up again, he was the last person still in the pews. The priest was having a hushed conversation with someone whose voice Asahi didn’t recognize.

He glanced over, pulling down his coat to seem casual, an effort nullified by his gasp when he saw who the priest was talking to. He looked  _ sublime _ , with silver hair and eyes covering a graceful, perfectly-proportioned frame. He wore simple brown robes and carried a two-pronged spear like the one the angel held in the mosaic. Snow-white wings spread around him.

He was frowning and occasionally shook his head, though Asahi had the feeling that the concept of “anger” didn’t truly apply to him.

The angel looked over, along with the priest.

“Hello,” he said melodically. The priest nodded in polite recognition.

“H-Hi. Uh...power be to Avacyn and her Host!” Asahi stammered.

The angel laughed. “Don’t worry about formalities. You can call me Suga.”

“Asahi.”  He shook Suga’s hand. Immediately, he felt as though nothing could hurt him. He took a deep breath and let go.

“Nice meeting you, Suga. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.”

“You as well, Asahi.”

Asahi left, his steps becoming quicker the further he stepped from the podium. His heart started to pound, forcing him to catch his breath on the outside of the Cathedral. The lack of the safety he had when talking to Suga felt like a vise, but all he could think of was relief that he had kept his composure.

He went over the conversation in his head. And again, and again. His heart wouldn’t stop racing. A guard looked over, so he gave a weak smile. He was acting strangely. The guard saw him. He was worried about him. He needed to calm down. He started walking to his shop, a blacksmith a few blocks from the main city’s gate. Asahi started to count to ten, but he struggled to focus, especially as parents guided their children away from him. Two, three. He passed a fountain, silver coins covering the bottom. Someone had put up a sign saying “Suggested spell cost: 2 pieces of silver”, but a soldier was writing the number 3 over the 2.

A courier shouted from the other side of the street. Asahi barely paid attention to the headlines: the new tithe, the ongoing tariff with Kessig, and the new faith growing in popularity. There was also news from beyond Thraben about a dragon, a “holiday” in Stensia (as if those neck-biters deserved such a thing), and a few grisly deaths in Nephalia. Asahi tuned out after the courier began describing the cases. A young girl became deathly ill and died in the streets mere minutes after she started to show any symptoms. An old man collapsed from thirst, despite living in the stormiest city on Innistrad. 

He reached his shop and sat down heavily at his workstation. It was imperative that he finish the shields today. The captain and his guards were pushed to their limit every day defending the gate. The least he could do was keep them well-supplied.

He grabbed the metal frame of a shield just as he noticed an arc of lightning scattering across its surface.

“Ow! Would you  _ please _ knock it off!” he shouted. The shield, dropped in reflex, struck the floor with a loud clang. Someone from across the street looked at him nervously. “You’re making me scare off the customers.”

Noya appeared from behind an anvil. “You seemed a little jumpy. I’m giving you a reason! It’s a good thing.”

Tanaka laughed from above him and threw a few embers from the rafters. They sizzled on the ground. “Yeah, what’s with you? Do you feel like this a lot?”

“As if I’d tell you,” Asahi muttered, trying to sound angry without alarming potential customers.

“Don’t be that way. We’re your friends!” Tanaka said.

Asahi huffed, but his retort was cut short, as Noya and Tanaka vanished in a flash of light and a puff of smoke, respectively.

“Hello, Asahi! Have those shields ready yet?” boomed the guard-captain from the doorway, causing Asahi to jump a few inches.

“Oh! Hi, Daichi. Uh, no, they’re not quite finished yet, but they will be tomorrow!” Asahi laughed nervously. Daichi raised an eyebrow.

“You seem rather anxious today, my friend. Have you gotten much sleep lately?” he asked. He started to raise an arm to Asahi’s shoulder, but thought better of it, letting it hang by his armor-clad torso instead. Asahi sighed.

“Yeah, it’s because two devils came into my house and pestered me all morning. Little shocks, burning my curtains, that kind of thing.”

“Maybe you could get a cathar to take care of them?” Daichi paused, thinking. “Have you tried asking the angel that lives in the rafters of the Cathedral?”

“You mean Suga? I just met him today. I wouldn’t dream of asking him. His job is so important, being a conduit between the heavens and the Church and all…” he trailed off.

Daichi nodded. “Well, at least there’s a full moon tonight. The wards should do the trick for now.” He glanced around the shop. “I should get back to the front; my break’s ending.” It had only been a few minutes.

Asahi moved to the other end of the store and returned with a few spears and silver-lined swords, which Daichi accepted gratefully.

“Tell me if they’re still bothering you after tonight,” Daichi said as he left.

“Sure,” Asahi muttered, too quiet for the captain to hear.

The rest of the day passed by at a torturously slow pace. Noya and Tanaka kept disappearing and reappearing as the customers left the store. Asahi tried his best to hammer out the shields, despite how Noya kept shouting and Tanaka kept changing the heat of the smithing fire. At least they had stopped shocking him. He closed his shop as the sun started to set in the sky.

Once he strode through the door to his house, Asahi felt a bit calmer; he could enjoy the evening alone.

“Hey!” shouted Tanaka, from where he had materialized in Asahi’s kitchen. Asahi ignored him and kept walking to his bedroom.

He approached his desk where he kept a small statue of Avacyn and a silver dagger. Noya appeared behind him.

“Come on, Asahi. Don’t be like that. You could have fun with us! We promise we won’t set your house on fire or shock you! ‘Cuz you’re twitchy and all that.”

Tanaka nodded. “Yeah. If we don’t keep shocking you, you’ll get used to us! I think it’s called “desensitization.”

“How do you  _ know _ that?” Noya asked.

“I may have barged into a chaplain’s office at one point.”

“Nice!”

Asahi ignored them and picked up the dagger. A gleam of moonlight raced through his bedroom window and reflected off of the blade. With his left hand, he picked up a small urn of salt. He walked through the house, dropping lines below each doorway and window.

“Fine, then. I see how it is,” Noya sighed. “I guess we should go.”

“Yeah. Too bad. Who else is he going to talk to?” Tanaka replied before vanishing. Noya looked at Asahi and shook his head, a slight smirk on his face, before he followed suit.

Asahi did his best to ignore the jab and started to mutter the words to finish the spell.

“May Avacyn and Her Host bless this house, and may no evil enter, so long as the moon shines.”

He plunged the dagger into the soft wood of the desk. The salt barrier around the doorway of his bedroom blazed with light, and a breeze carried the scent of iris through his bedroom. He closed his window and sighed.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

 

Daichi returned to Thraben’s front gate after speaking with Asahi. Haggard-looking soldiers nodded to him with deferential “Captain”s as they claimed the new weapons. Though a few crossbow archers took care of the ghouls that threatened the gate, most of Thraben’s guards slumped against the main wall, exhausted. As Daichi had expected, the necromancers had ceased their offensive for most of the day to prepare for a stronger assault during the night. Daichi gazed at the group of armor-clad men and women.

“We’ll show those unholy pieces of filth what we’re made of!” he shouted. “We’ve torn them apart the past couple of moons, and, by the angels, we’ll do it again!”

A chorus of shouts rang out in excitement. To Daichi, it was more beautiful than any hymn.

For the next few hours, Daichi called in a few runechanters to bless as many weapons as they could. He approached one of them, who was working on engravings on one of the new spears from earlier that day. A boy, armor-clad and no older than 15, stood off to the side. Daichi turned to him, seeing as the runechanter didn’t want to be disturbed.

“Hello, soldier. I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Hello...hello, Captain. No, I’m...I'm new here. This is my... third day as a guard.”

Daichi looked at the boy’s features further. Red-rimmed eyes, clearly the product of shocked tears. His eyes struggled to make contact with his own and moved to the left and right in panic.

“Are you all right?” Daichi asked, guiding him to a bench.

“I...no. My younger sister...she...she...” the soldier stammered before he became completely silent.

“Okay, I want you to take a nice deep breath. Five seconds.” Daichi used his most commanding voice, and the boy started to follow his lead.

“Good. After each breath, hold it...one, two, three. Now let it out nice and slow.”

It took a few minutes, but the boy calmed down enough to realize what had happened, and a new blush appeared on his face.

“I’m so sorry, Captain, I…”

“No, don’t apologize. Now listen to me.” Daichi leaned in, and said gently, “It’s always hard losing someone important. It may feel like an essential part of the world ceased to exist, as if there’s no way you can keep fighting because you’ve seen the end. You’ve seen how people fall and never rise. But what their purpose was, their goal, still remains to be fought for, and deserves to be obtained.”

The boy’s awed expression shifted to confusion as Daichi ended his speech. “Captain, that was beautiful, but my sister didn’t have a purpose or a goal, besides her own happiness. She wasn’t a soldier. She died about an hour ago, for no reason. It meant  _ nothing _ !”

“What happened?” Daichi asked softly.

“The people on the street heard her scream before they saw her throw herself out of a manor window. She’d never do it, though. I don’t believe it. She was always so happy, and everyone loved her.”

“May she spend eternity in the ground,” Daichi said, before walking him back to the gate. He puzzled over the boy’s words for a while. Suicides were uncommon in Thraben, especially among the young and hopeful. He knew the tales of lonely men in the hinterlands withering away, and of zealots who thought the only way to achieve the Blessed Sleep was to create it themselves, but neither applied. The death could have been magically wrought, but even the evilest of witches tended to avoid cursing the innocent. For peace of mind, he chalked it up to devils. They could drive anyone off the edge.

Wasn’t there something he had to do, related to devils? He couldn’t quite remember. He couldn’t stop seeing a body, plummeting to the earth. The faceless figure of the young girl became the memory of a few young men, whose faces he knew all too well.

It had been six moons ago, during his first shift as captain of the guard. The previous captain had figured that the Falkenrath vampire encampment a mile away wouldn’t dare attack the front gates. He had sent the mages to guard the more dimly-lit parts of the outer wall, stationed between archer-assigned towers. He had guarded the mansions with his lieutenants, despite how the buildings were already sequestered by the city's inner walls and patrolling cathars. (Daichi suspected that the captain had wanted to increase his standing with the upper class).

The captain had given Daichi words of encouragement and a clap on the back. He still had a squadron of archers and foot soldiers, and the vats of boiling oil were prepared just in case. No one was getting into the city.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t been the vampires’ objective.

“Daichi! They're in the air!” Ennoshita, a crossbowman and one of Daichi’s close friends, had shouted, looking through his spyglass in panic. The other archers, including his friends Kinoshita and Narita, had readied their weapons.

Daichi had taken one second to process the information. The Falkenrath were desperate if they were sending in their elite few that could  _ fly _ into Thraben.

“Shields!” he shouted to protect the ground forces. It had been pointless, as they completely ignored the ground forces in their rush towards the wall.

The arrivals had been warriors, unencumbered by armor through mana-fueled strength. They streaked between the bolts on wings made of light and wind. His archers shot down a few, who hurtled towards the waiting swordsmen.

Daichi had reached the top of the wall as the first arrived. She had moved uncannily fast and slit the throat of an archer before he could draw a weapon. Daichi had been on her a moment after, his longsword crashing through her parry with the forces of momentum and adrenaline. She had been thrown off-balance long enough for his opposing hand to draw the guard’s stake and impale her in the stomach. Meanwhile, several vampires engaged in combat with the few foot soldiers who had followed Daichi up the wall.

The next part Daichi always remembered as a series of short moments. One vampire had simply, effortlessly flung a guard off of the wall. Another had wrestled an archer into an arm lock and flew away with her, biting her neck as she screamed in terror. A rookie soldier had, miraculously, defeated one in combat, decapitating him with the vampire’s own sword. Screams of pain from his men, screams of ecstasy from his blood-sated opponents.

One of the vampires had approached Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita, who were fighting in a three-on-two battle. He had drawn an ebony longsword and gestured to their opponents to withdraw.

Daichi had watched, simultaneously defending against his own enemy, as the instigator licked his lips before repelling their attacks. He was incredibly skilled, and fast--too fast.

Daichi finished his fight, ungracefully dropping his adversary from the wall before hurrying over to their battle.

“Daichi! Help!” Kinoshita had called, his voice breaking.

Their opposing vampire had smirked and made eye contact with Daichi, who was still too far away to lunge. The vampire's pupils had dilated to the point where they were indistinguishable from the pitch-black scleras, black and featureless as a void. He had held the smirk as his hand, glowing red with mana, had swept in a horizontal arc, too fast to see.

Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita had crumpled to the ground, one straight line through them. Their eyes became faded and glassy as their mouths had opened for one last sigh.

“This is where I leave you, Daichi,” he had purred before he leaped from the balcony and merged into the darkness.

Daichi had surveyed the remnants of the battle around him. Blood, vampire and human alike, had soaked the ground and ran between the cracks of the stone wall. It had been a slaughter. Only a few of his soldiers had survived, including one that had lived through a drop from the wall.

It reminded him of someone who hadn't survived such a fall. It wasn't from a wall, though, and it wasn't from a throw. It was from a balcony, and she had jumped. The young soldier’s sister, he thought, focusing on the present.

“Captain?” the boy asked, concern shadowing his face.

“I’m fine. Tend to your own preparations, soldier. Tell anyone who asks that I’m taking a walk. I won’t be gone long,” Daichi replied, leaving before his squadron could assail him with questions. There were only three people that he felt like talking to.

Daichi found himself walking in one of Thraben’s graveyards. Though its boundaries were in the range of the guard towers, most of the graves were obscured by trees and the ever-darkening evening sky. Soon enough, he felt three pairs of eyes watching him, though he heard no footsteps.

“Bit of a dramatic place for a walk, eh, Captain?”

Daichi turned around, his eyes landing on what appeared to be three clouds of mist.

“Hey, guys.” Daichi smiled. The misty clouds condensed into three human figures, the faces of his former friends becoming visible. He had to suppress the urge to hug them. It would’ve only further reminded him of their undead state. Ghosts also tended to be cold, and it wouldn’t do for him to return to his soldiers with a frosted uniform.

“Long time no see.”

“I wouldn’t say that Kinoshita,” Ennoshita said. “We talked to him just last week.”

“Yeah, but only for, what, five minutes? That doesn’t count.”

Daichi gave a sheepish smile. “I can’t talk for very long today, either, I’m afraid. There’s probably going to be an assault on the gate tonight.”

“Oh! We’ll do what we can to help,” Ennoshita said resolutely. “I know it’s not much. Keeping corporeal is difficult, and even with the full moon, we’ll only have a few minutes.”

Daichi nodded. “Thank you. I actually wanted to talk to you all about something else.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t stop thinking about that night on the wall.”

Narita placed his hand on Daichi’s shoulder, but it felt no more solid than a gust of wind.

“If it helps, I’m sure our deaths were worse for you than for us. For me, the pain lasted just a moment, before I could feel myself lift from the ground. I had this feeling that I could leave the battle and float towards a white tunnel in the distance. I saw your face, though, and knew that my duty was still to the city,” he stated. Ennoshita and Kinoshita nodded.

“So, you’re okay with this?”

“We all chose to stay here, didn’t we?” Kinoshita said. “I mean, it would be nice to rest, but not when Thraben needs us. And no one was there to guide us to the Sleep, which made staying easier.”

Daichi nodded, relieved. “In that case, I should get to the front.”

“We have your back,” Ennoshita said before the three vanished into the mist.


	6. Chapter 6

Suga watched the evening congregation from his perch in the rafters of the Cathedral. His conversation with the priest after the morning service had put him in a melancholy mood. He had felt the impression that the priest had stopped believing in Avacyn’s return. Despite how his words insisted on a brighter future, the priest's sermons had become stale, as if he had stopped thinking about his own practice.

The archbishop’s decree was also concerning, considering the Church hadn’t needed money in years. It’s not as if they could enforce the raise, but there were many who would abstain from the Church’s protections if they couldn’t pay the suggested fee. Those who were the most loyal to the Church were the most susceptible to its main weakness. The lessons of the Church were unshakeable, but the higher-level organization could still be corrupted by material desires.

And, as much as Suga didn’t want to admit it, the blasphemer in the morning congregation had a point. Avacynian wards simply weren’t powerful enough anymore to sustain the common population. Suga felt Her absence more than anyone, and lost more power each day as followers became too discouraged to remain pious. He had felt the disillusionment of the morning congregation like an aching wound.

At least Asahi had been kind and still held faith. Suga wished that he could afford to take care of the devils that were bothering him. Showing devils the business end of his spear was the most cathartic part of his job; their black, foul blood sizzling against the ground a physical reminder of Avacyn’s might.

Unfortunately for his current mood, his most pressing duty was to keep an eye on the Church. He had postponed his regular duties as an angel of Flight Alabaster when Avacyn had left and his brethren became few and far between. He still winced whenever he felt another soul stuck in the realm of the living, reminding him of his neglected responsibility.

After the service, he departed the Cathedral through the upper window, stretching his wings on the evening breeze. Tomorrow he would confront the archbishop about the new pricing. Tonight, Suga thought, his eyes turned to Thraben’s front gate in the distance, the city’s defenses would hold.


	7. Chapter 7

#### Kessig

  
  


Another stood at his height. No one could rival him without paying for it. Kageyama growled, and the one with reddish fur replied in kind.

He growled again and showed his fangs. This time, the other didn’t do the same. He gave an expression that Kageyama didn’t understand and moved backward, slinking down to the forest floor in submission.

Good. Now they could move. He stopped thinking a few moments later after the forest became a blur and his stomach started to growl.

Keep moving.

Keep moving.

Eat. Kill something.

There, motion straight ahead of them. Outrun it. Kill it. Eat it. Leave the rest to the others.

Kageyama’s lupine jaws growled as he led the rest of the pack through the forest. They moved at a sprint, plowing through branches and anything that dared to be underfoot. 

The scent of blood.

A human.

A few of them. Perfect.

He leaped forward and landed on top of one of them, knocking him over. His jaws found the man’s neck. Alongside him, the rest of the pack claimed their targets.

It was over.

He tasted _good_.

They stopped after Kageyama rose, pulled by the breaking dawn. They had to get back.

Move.

Move.

Ah, there it was. Kageyama prepared for the pain.

Screams and howls echoed through the forest as the sun started to rise.

Kageyama felt his mind come back to him. He was covered in blood--they all were. A familiar taste lingered in his mouth, like venison, but not…

His heart plummeted, and he sat down heavily against a tree. His mind swam with self-loathing and curses, on himself, the world, and everything.

He took his silver arrowhead from his coat pocket and clutched it in his hand. His skin started to burn, but he still held on.


	8. Chapter 8

#### Nephalia

 

Yamaguchi’s hand hesitated over the doorknob to his laboratory.

“Go ahead,” Tsukishima said. “You don’t have much time before the moon wanes.”

Yamaguchi opened the door and stepped to the side, allowing Tsukishima to survey the end result.

A beast lay on the stone slab. It had the body of a reindeer, with extra muscle around the back and joints, and what appeared to be cat fur over its back. Giant, leathery wings unfolded from its spine, connected to the tissue by rune-inlaid brass plates. Tsukishima suppressed a gasp.

Yamaguchi paced in the corner of the room. “What are your thoughts?”

“Excellent craftsmanship.” Yamaguchi beamed. “I don’t see any unnecessary stitching--oh wait, here’s a line-- but it doesn’t detract from the work. I’m also not sure why you put fur on her back.”

“I thought it would be more comfortable.”

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow. “You want to be able to ride her? That’s very ambitious.” Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, you’re free to start, assuming the viscus vitae is already in.”

Yamaguchi nodded and approached his creation. He started to mutter the animating spell, the words becoming louder and more confident as they spilled from his lips.

A few minutes later, the beast’s head started to move, antlers thwacking against the stone slab.

Yamaguchi finished the spell. The beast’s wings flapped behind it, pounding against the slab. Its mouth opened and gave a low, unearthly moan, nostrils flaring. Yamaguchi put his hand on the nose, and it stilled almost immediately, snuffling a little and rubbing its snout up and down his hand. Yamaguchi giggled, both from relief and from the tickling sensation.

“Only you could make an unnatural amalgamation of corpses and mana seem...endearing,” Tsukishima said, but he couldn’t keep a smile from his face.

“Her name is Daisy.”

“Of course it is.”

__

Yamaguchi spent most of the next few days with Daisy, walking her around the outside of the tower. She stumbled at first, unaccustomed to the weight on her back, but soon became used to her new stride. The wings took a bit longer for her to get used to; her first takeoffs barely made it off the ground, and she kept forgetting to flap her wings. There were more than a few crash landings and even more of Yamaguchi’s panicked yells.

Tsukishima often found himself gazing out of the window of his laboratory. He smiled when he saw Daisy make her first real landing, and couldn’t tear his eyes away when Yamaguchi climbed onto her back for the first time.

He wouldn’t mind living like this for a while: his friend keeping him company, his project to keep him occupied, and more than enough resources to stay afloat. From outside his window, he saw Yamaguchi glide around, steering Daisy in lazy circles around his window.

He wondered when the illusion would shatter, would free-fall in a flurry of fur and broken wings.


	9. Chapter 9

#### Stensia

  
  


Iwaizumi took a step through the threshold of Voldaren Estate. The noise in the room stopped, a cacophony of conversation ceasing in a heartbeat. A horde of vampires shifted to gaze at him, their black eyes reflecting mocking smiles. As one, they knelt, and the sound of armor clinking behind him signified that his entourage had done the same.

“Hello,” he said, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

The vampires stood up and resumed their conversations and dancing. Iwaizumi noticed that he wasn’t the only human there.

Three of the dancers, clad in exotic silks and colorful feathers, swayed through the crowd, smiling glamorously at the guests. The air around them shimmered as they danced. Iwaizumi tried to make eye contact with one of them, but her eyes darted towards someone else.

One of the patrons, a burly brute near to the door, cleared his throat. “Your Majesty.”

Iwaizumi turned, to see that the guard was holding his arms out expectantly. “What?”

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable, knowing that you were safe in our arms? Please, your weapons.” His voice had a gentle, soothing tone.

Iwaizumi handed the guard his logging ax and dagger, and, after a pointed glance, his stiletto-inlaid boots.

“Well, don’t worry, you’ll have nothing but our finest. Hand over your other accessories. You know what? Just change into this, right now.” The guard gave Iwaizumi a bundle of clothes and a silken robe.

“Right here? When everyone’s staring at me?”

“Yes. I don’t trust you not to pull some stunt.”

“Fine, then.” Iwaizumi sighed. “Everyone, look away for a minute. That’s an  _ order  _ from your  _ king _ .”

As he expected, the other guests turned away from him. The guard only barely glanced at him, as if daring him to do anything suspicious. The entourage that still stood behind him swiveled around, as well, but spread to bar the doorway.

Iwaizumi picked up the one other item he carried--a small, silver-coated mirror, the last gift from his village. He turned it to reflect one of the dancers.

Her back and neck, reflected in the silver mirror, were covered in puncture wounds, the shimmery haze of illusion gone. The feathered boa she wore changed into a garment of bone and alabaster.

Iwaizumi tried to hide his shock as he changed into the royal robes he had been offered.

“Gaze to your heart’s content,” he scoffed to no one in particular.

“Already have,” muttered Oikawa from behind him, almost too quiet to hear. Ice shot down Iwaizumi's spine before he realized that it didn't really matter if Oikawa had seen him use the mirror. If it wasn't relevant to his escape, it didn't matter what the other thought of him.

The guard took Iwaizumi’s clothes and mirror. Iwaizumi felt the loss of his tools and mirror as acutely as he felt the loss of his dignity.

He left the guard to join the rest of the warped celebration. Maybe he could at least find a way to save the dancers.

“You’re not the first who’s tried that,” the guard said with a smile, his calm tone dropped. “You trying to kick us all to death? See how many of us you can take out?”

“Something like that.”

He tapped the shoulder of the girl he had seen through the mirror. Her skin was dark and unblemished, her boa colorful. She jumped slightly, startled.

“Oh, hello, King! Would you like the next dance?” she said, voice chipper and false. The vampires around them were staring.

“I would,” he replied, trying to sound casual. Their voyeurs resumed what they had been doing.

The band, a group of vampiric violinists, started to play the next song, a slow, haunting melody. Though beautiful, it reminded Iwaizumi of a dirge. He almost asked for a different song, but the dancer wrapped her arms around him for a waltz. Her movements were fluid and graceful, and he lost himself in the dance. For a moment, he forgot where he was.

The song slowed, the waltz shifting to something more languid. He was facing her, his ears just close enough to hear her whispers, as gentle as a breeze.

“Please don’t worry about us,” she said, and the pace stayed the same. One and two. One and two.

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi muttered back. He gave her a twirl, which she accepted with a small smile. A tear ran down her cheek, but she kept smiling, and her movements never faltered.

“Some of us might be skilled enough to be chosen,” One, two. “It’s more than anything you can do.”

“What happens then?” he asked. Pivot, step.

“Turned,” Side-step, two. “Or killed.” She kept smiling. “I’m okay either way.”

“Can I ask you something?” She nodded. “I saw your scars. How did you get them?” One and two.

“You don’t need to kill a sheep for its wool--” she gave a twirl, and Iwaizumi held her for a sweep as the song finished, “--but you do need to make a few cuts.”

A few vampires clapped for the violinists. The dancer gave a short curtsy and returned to the crowd. She had a new partner when the next song started: a tall, handsome vampire, swayed by her dancing and beauty.

Iwaizumi watched them dance for a few minutes before the vampire took her by the arm and led her towards the stairway to the upstairs bedrooms. The dancer took one last, sad glance behind her.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi yelled, causing them, as well as everyone else in the room, to stop. “Where do you think you’re taking her?”

The vampire was silent. The dancer shook her head, resignation on her face.

“Humans are off limits, King.” the vampire finally said. A few murmurs of assent followed.

Iwaizumi stood still as they continued to walk up the staircase. The party continued on after a moment, the sound of a door shutting upstairs echoing through the estate. He started to walk around after a minute or so, trying to fight the numbness in his mind.

He wandered over to the food tables. Roasted pig, apple cakes, and various stews covered the tables, fine obsidian cutlery and intricate glassware arranged between.

He started to eat, and tried not to think of the dancer and her graceful steps, her sweet, tear-rimmed eyes, her blood-strewn back.

The sheer quality of the food was far greater than the rustic meals he had worked for back home, and succeeded in bringing him away from the image for a few minutes. The pig was fatty, perfectly cooked, and succulent, and the cakes were sweet and rich. He didn’t touch the stews. Agnes, a cook from his village, had always brought him a homemade stew for the Harvest Celebration.

A wine bar sat next to the table, stocked with vintage reds. He reached for a glass and started to fill it from the nearest bottle, whose label he hadn’t heard of. One glass wouldn’t wouldn’t slow him. He could look for ways to escape on one glass.

He had barely lifted the stem when he felt a cold hand grasp his arm. He looked up, and Oikawa gazed at him, a coy smile on his face.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

Iwaizumi had no time to react before Oikawa took the wine glass and drank it himself. His pupils dilated, making his eyes even darker. He grinned, a sanguine trickle dripping from his mouth.

“ _ I _ , however,  _ would _ .”

Iwaizumi paled.

“Even our kind frowns on forced cannibalism.” Oikawa wrinkled his nose. “It would be a little  _ gauche _ , don’t you think?”

But Iwaizumi had fainted and lay, spread-eagle, on the floor.

He came to on a bed covered in thick, plush blankets, silken sheets, and pillows full of egret feather. The flowing velvet-and-gold privacy curtain around him was sheer enough for him to see the other furniture in the room--two chairs and a table.

He relaxed into the mattress and started to sink into the realm of sleep, despite his better judgment. Luxury and softness had been unattainable for his entire life, and the thought of sleep surpassed any previous notion of planning.

“Good evening, Iwa! Glad to see you’re awake!” a chipper voice said far too loudly.

“Don’t call me that!” Iwaizumi growled. “Turn off the lights and  _ go _ .”

Oikawa poked his head through the privacy curtain. Iwaizumi’s heart pounded, an innate reaction to black eyes and fangs.  “Aw, so mean, Hajime!”

“Don’t call me  _ that _ , either!” he shouted, sitting up on the bed, its pull evaporated.

“I would go, but I thought you should know that we have a policy to always keep an eye on our King. If I go, someone else would watch you instead. And that would be quite disappointing,” Oikawa pouted. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“Fine,” Iwaizumi huffed, leaving the bed for a chair. A kettle sat on a small stand  next to it, and a chessboard perched on the coffee table at his feet. Oikawa perched in the chair immediately across from him and poured them both cups of tea.

“Care for a game of chess?” he asked.

“I  _ thought  _ you wanted to talk to me.”

“We can do both.”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“Let me teach you,” Oikawa said and arranged the pieces to their starting configuration. He started describing the way each piece moved. “It wouldn’t be sporting of me to do otherwise, after all.”

They started to play. Oikawa won the first two games easily. Iwaizumi set up the third game, which was roughly even throughout.

Oikawa frowned thoughtfully before advancing a pawn. “I know you were rather opposed on the ride here, but my offer still stands.”

“Of turning me into a monster? No way.”

“I think you should give it more...consideration,” Oikawa said, his voice dropping into a murmur. Iwaizumi looked up from the board to face him.

Oikawa’s eyes seemed to be swirling, the barely-visible irises spiraling across their black background. Iwaizumi gazed at them, losing focus.

“You’d be safe with me,” he muttered. “You’d be able to relax. Relax for me.”

Iwaizumi’s body loosened, and he slumped into his chair. His eyes closed.

“You see yourself walking down a flight of stairs. With every step, you sink deeper and deeper. You take the first step. The second. The third. And you feel so relaxed. The fourth. Feeling more relaxed as you--

\--Fall into trance,” Oikawa spoke the last part confidently, as a statement. Iwaizumi stilled.

“Good. Now everything I’m going to say is the truth, and the truth is everything I’m going to say.

“You would be cared for, and live a life of luxury. You could go anywhere and do anything. You could learn our secrets, and become a master at whatever skills you wanted. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Iwaizumi nodded. “And you’d be adopted into our new family. All you have to say is ‘yes’. Can you say that for me?”

Iwaizumi felt as if he was falling asleep, the words washing over and around him like a wave. One of them broke, shattering against his trance.

“Family,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

“Yes, you’d be one of us, a true Voldaren.”

“No,” Iwaizumi mumbled, trying to climb out of his stupor.

Oikawa gazed at him as he started to move more in his seat, an effort to physically fight his restrained consciousness.

“No,” Iwaizumi repeated, louder. “I...have my own family.”

“Describe them,” Oikawa said, defeated.

“My mother and father died years ago,” Iwaizumi said, his voice becoming clearer with every word, “But there’s also Agnes at the market, the blacksmith, the mayor...the...guards… the …” he trailed off. His eyes opened.

“Why did I tell you that?”

“Tell me what?” Oikawa said, his expression innocent. “All I did was move a pawn to F4.”

“I...don't remember.”

Oikawa gave a soft, genuine smile. His eyes looked at the board, a hint of sadness on their corners. They continued to play for a while, a strange atmosphere in the room, though Iwaizumi couldn’t think of why.

“Have you thought about what you’re doing tomorrow?” Oikawa asked eventually.

“I had a place in mind I wanted to visit, yes.”

“That’s good. Your home village?”

Iwaizumi shook his head.

“I won’t go with you, by the way. Business matters.”

“And here I was, under the impression that you just sat around when you weren’t torturing and killing people. Or is that not  _ your _ responsibility?”

“For your information, I’m a diplomat and the Crown Prince. And no, that isn’t my responsibility. The way we treat our captives is barbaric, but I’m not in a position to change it. Not yet.”

“And when will you be? When the monarch dies?”

“Yes, if Queen Olivia dies, I’d be the King. It’s more likely she’d relinquish the role out of boredom first, though, and that’s going to be a while yet. A few decades, maybe a century.”

“So, never.”

“Maybe for you.  _ We _ don’t happen to age.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“What else have you heard?” Oikawa asked, an amused smile on his face.

“I think I’m more likely to survive if I don’t tell you that.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms.

“You’re so  _ guarded _ tonight,” Oikawa replied, before quickly changing the topic. “Most of us use one form of magic or another. We Voldarens specialize in taking the form of animals, though I’ve never cared enough to learn the spells.

“That said, all vampires are strong and can silence people. Some of us can smell blood easily, but that takes an acute nose.”

Iwaizumi nodded in thought. “So what can  _ you _ do?”

“I can fly.”

“Really.”

“I’m bad at it. Worse than any Falkenrath.”

“Better than me.”

Oikawa gave a surprised huff of laughter. “Barely. I only taught myself enough to get closer to the stars.” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow. “I’m decent with a sword, and with hypnosis, but there is one thing I can do especially well.”

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa’s face changed, the pale complexion darkening to a more natural color. His fangs receded, and the black scleras in his eyes turned ivory-white. Iwaizumi choked on his now-cold tea.

“Convincing, isn’t it?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I can stay like this for a long time, too. It helps...  _ business _ relations,” he said, as his features returned to their usual appearance.

“Good to know,” Iwaizumi said sarcastically.

Oikawa ignored him. “I'm obliged to point out that we vampires are weak against living wood and holy symbols.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a priest.” Iwaizumi paused. “I’m not sure why you would tell me that, though. Or anything, really.”

Oikawa stood up and moved to the door.

“I give everyone a way out, Iwaizumi. It’s up to them to take it. See you tomorrow evening.”

It wasn’t long after Oikawa closed the door before Iwaizumi collapsed into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

#### Kessig

 

The sun had just started to rise, replacing the moon with the barest suggestion of light. Kessig’s trees and the morning fog would keep its rays from warming the forest ground for a few hours to come.

Hinata had barely put on his clothes when Kageyama stormed over to him, put a hand around his neck, and hurled him against the nearest tree. Hinata grunted as he slammed into the trunk. A few drops of blood trickled down his back.

“What were you  _ thinking _ ?” Kageyama shouted. “Why didn’t you  _ tell _ me you were the alpha of your pack? If you hadn’t stopped when you did, one of us would be dead right now!”

A minute passed, and Hinata hadn’t responded. His face became pale, and his chest started to heave from a lack of oxygen. Kageyama finally noticed and dropped him to the forest floor.

“I... don’t know... what you mean... by ‘alpha’... but I didn’t mean ...to replace you! And... I didn’t!...So... I don’t know... why you’re so... angry about this!” Hinata gasped.

“Idiot! It doesn’t matter what you intended. It only matters what the wolf intended. Lucky for us, that was to stand down. But you didn’t know that! You guessed, and put both of us in danger!”

“Why do you... talk like... the wolf and I are separate?”

“Because you’re not a  _ murderer _ !” Kageyama bellowed. “We  _ tore apart _ that group of people last night, and, unless you want to take responsibility for them, you should agree with me!” Kageyama’s eyes flashed madly, and he grinned, teeth sharpening into a grotesque facsimile of themselves. Hinata yelped and backed away, trapping himself against the same tree he had just been held against.

“I thought you wanted us to take...responsibility for each other,” Hinata said, but stopped when he saw the other’s hands turn into paws, nails sharpening to wicked points.

In an instant, the rest of the pack was there, a few of them restraining Kageyama’s arms and legs, and one reciting a prayer--to Avacyn, Hinata noticed.

After a few minutes, Kageyama had calmed down enough to where his features returned to normal. Hinata wasn’t sure if the prayer had helped revert the process, or had just helped Kageyama relax enough to control the transformation himself.

When Kageyama was sound enough to be left alone, the pack did exactly that, leaving Kageyama and Hinata to set up the campsite.

Hinata chose his words carefully. “What happened to those people was too bad, but we couldn't avoid it. They were unlucky enough to be right in our path.”

“Here’s my question. If you and the wolf are one and the same,” Kageyama waited for Hinata’s nod of affirmation, “then how do you justify what happens?”

Hinata sighed. “I try not to think about it. I guess that my own survival matters enough for me to not worry, so long as I don’t try to kill people. I just want to know what I can do, in either form.”

“Seems reckless.”

Hinata shook his head. “When I helped lead a pack, it was a lot like yours, where we stayed away from villages. It was pretty safe.”

Kageyama pondered this for a moment.

“You said ‘helped’ lead. I’m not sure I understand.”

“It’s not that complicated. Four of us made the decisions, before talking to the others.”

Kageyama still looked confused. “But that goes against the laws of nature. The alpha wolf leads. It’s  _ instinct _ ! You can’t control that. If your group had a lot of people, I’m surprised no one attacked each other for the role.”

“You must be really bad at controlling yourself. Whenever any conflict like that came up, they forced themselves to stop, like how I stood down last night. We knew what we were doing. I don’t know where you got this ‘alpha’ thing from, but it’s not a law of nature.”

He turned to look at Kageyama. “If anything, _ I _ should be angry at  _ you _ . You say you avoid harming other people, but you’re totally out of it when you’re at your most dangerous! And on top of that, you don’t even try to stop a transformation on your own! You just wait it out with useless prayers. I don’t know how you could lead a pack.”

Kageyama didn’t have any words for a while, stuttering in anger and confusion before replying. “It’s worked so far. And how did leading work out for you, anyway?”

Hinata stiffened. “I don’t have to tell you that,” he replied coldly, before leaving to help set up the tents.

Kageyama huffed, but the victory rang hollow. He clicked his hand towards another pack member for help with the grave markers.   
  



	11. Chapter 11

#### Stensia

 

For Iwaizumi, the morning after his chat with Oikawa was uneventful, considering his circumstances. The Voldarens had provided an elegant breakfast, but Iwaizumi hadn’t felt like eating anything more than a roll and a cup of tea. Rowan, the vampire who had accompanied Oikawa on his initial journey from the village, volunteered to accompany him, along with a cavalry squadron.

“If you have any sort of quarrel with someone, this is your lucky day,” Rowan smirked, as the troops prepared to leave the stables. “Just say the word, Sire.”

“If you’re asking if I want to send a troop of vampire knights to slaughter someone, then you’re mistaken.”

“ _ Someone’s _ a little uppity this morning.”

“I’m sorry if I’m not the perfect, docile  _ prey  _ that you had imagined.”

“Don’t take it personally. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you smelled like a good meal.” Rowan winked. “If it helps, you’re saving the life of whomever we would’ve picked if you weren’t there. Maybe even your entire village, because we only use it for this very purpose! It’s a noble sacrifice.”

Iwaizumi stopped brushing his horse for a moment. “No, it's not. The holiday doesn't have to exist.”

Rowan looked at him strangely. “Are you saying that you’d prefer that we attack your village like every other one, instead of only taking one person a year?”

“All I’m saying is that I’m having some trouble justifying my own death.”

Rowan laughed. “Fair enough.”

They mounted their horses and started to ride in the direction of the village. Iwaizumi guided them leftwards after a few miles, down a barely-visible pathway. The sound of gently flowing water greeted them a while later, and the barren Stensian landscape became a dense forest. The sun peaked in the sky as they reached their destination, forming patches of light on the damp leaves below.

A small chapel stood, overlooking a creek that wound through the rest of the forest. Shadows of mold covered its walls, and its windows were shattered. The metal Collar that would have graced its front wall lay abandoned on the forest floor, bent and too heavy to be moved by wind. Even so, Iwaizumi thought, the place had retained a sort of quiet dignity. It refused to bow completely to the elements, and stood above the running water like a soldier above their enemy.

“It’s clear. You have two hours.”

“You’re too kind.”

“I’m not the one who decides on when the festivities begin. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss them. You only have tonight and tomorrow, after all.”

“By Her grace! I  _ get  _ it.”

“Now, now. You’re at a place of worship.”

Iwaizumi sent him a rude gesture and walked into the chapel. The interior was as damaged as the outside, its pews ravaged by termites and covered with years’ worth of dirt. As Iwaizumi had expected, there weren’t any materials or weapons lying around. Even the shards of glass from the broken windows had been salvaged.

He walked through the building to the outside. A tree had grown to overhang the area, its branches dripping onto and through the rotting remnants of a wooden deck. A few sturdy branches laid near his feet, their leaves still fresh and green.

An idea started to form in Iwaizumi’s mind. He picked up one of the branches--not too long, not too skinny--and a few of the leaves. He weaved a few ropes with the leaves, using them to bind the branch to his torso. With any luck, it would be inconspicuous under his clothing. His “hosts” had provided him with clothes aside from the ridiculous royal gown, but they had been too form-fitting to disguise objects well.

After he disguised the branch to his standards, Iwaizumi took a seat and thought about the rest of his plan for a few minutes, before focusing on the sound of water. He wasn’t very religious, but sent out a small prayer anyway, before his thoughts turned to his village. They remained there until he heard Rowan’s voice calling him back.

“Did you have fun, Your Highness?” Rowan asked, eyes glancing up and down his body, presumably to check for weapons. Iwaizumi nodded.

Having found nothing, Rowan gestured for the soldiers to follow him, and they started to ride back to the estate.

A few miles later, Rowan turned to Iwaizumi. “You spent a lot of time with Oikawa last night,” he smirked.

“I played chess with him for a while.” He ignored the connotation. 

“What was that like?”

“It was fine.”

Rowan gave him a sideways look. “Was it? You don’t find him shallow? Narcissistic? Cruel?”

“What are you trying to do?”

“I’m merely asking for your unbiased opinion.”

“He's narcissistic, not shallow. He gives a lot of thought to how he treats humans.”

“You call that unbiased?”

“I’m just giving you my opinion, which I don’t have to do, and probably shouldn’t.”

“Was there anything that struck you as odd about your conversation with him?

“He’s going to kill me in two days.”

“Ha ha. Think back on it. Anything that stuck out?”

“He looked like a human at one point, I guess. I was tired. I actually dozed off during one of the games.”

“Really?”

“I'm pretty sure.” Iwaizumi frowned. Maybe he had only been out for a few seconds. It seemed odd that he was even able to sleep in front of a vampire. Had he passed out?

“Are you?” Rowan asked, his stare uncomfortably direct.

“I might have blacked out for a moment.”

“That’s one possibility.”

What else could it have been? Iwaizumi tried to recall what Oikawa had said during the conversation. He could fly, look like a human, wield a sword, and… use hypnosis. Suddenly, he felt ice-cold.

He didn’t reply. After a few minutes, Rowan smirked and dropped the subject. The estate loomed over them.

Rowan made a sound, and the horses halted before moving through the gate. A man in white robes left the estate, his face completely covered. He plodded down the path, through the gate, and down the westward path without acknowledging them. The horses trotted into the estate stables, and the great iron gate closed behind them.

The party was in full swing when they arrived, boisterous vampires laughing and dancing throughout the dining room and ballroom. There weren’t any humans this time, the boa-clad performers replaced by lithe, black-eyed dancers.

Iwaizumi decided to watch a mage perform tricks in the corner. She transformed shadow and light into birds made of mana, which flew throughout the ballroom. One flew out a window, dropping an ethereal feather into Iwaizumi’s hand. The feather disintegrated into an impossible combination of light and darkness as she bowed and left. Iwaizumi clapped politely.

“A good performance, don’t you think?” a familiar voice said next to him. Iwaizumi tensed. He had been so engaged that he hadn’t noticed Oikawa creep up on him.

“It was. I’ve never seen magic like it,” he replied cautiously.

“Me neither. We don’t usually get that level of showmanship from vampiric spells.”

“It didn’t look like what vampires usually cast.”

“It wasn’t. It must have been pagan.”

“I have a question.” Oikawa glanced at him. “Why did you hypnotize me last night?”

Oikawa hesitated, his eyes glancing downward.

“Look at me. I know you did. Tell me  _ why _ !” Iwaizumi shouted, causing many of the others to glance in their direction. Oikawa winced but made eye contact.

“I wanted to test your resolve in regards to a question I had.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Why didn’t you ask me directly?”

Oikawa paused. “It was less of a question, and more of a challenge, like a duel. Thankfully for you, you passed, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I want to know what the stakes were.”

Oikawa sighed. “I’ll tell you later, if you insist. Why don’t you just enjoy the party?”

A hoarse cry from the dining room rang out before Iwaizumi could respond. It was loud enough to hear over the violinists and background chatter. The entire party stilled. The cry rang out again, quieter this time, and with a choked sob. The guests, shocked into motion, ran over to the room.

Oikawa parted the way through the crowd so that Iwaizumi could see. One of the guests, a young, pretty vampiress, had collapsed on the floor, her mouth open in a shriek. This time, no sound came out, and her eyes looked at the crowd in a panic. None of the vampires seemed to know any healing spells, and the mage had left. Someone ran for a healing kit.

The vampiress clutched her throat, drawing attention to her neck. The lining of her throat was gone, liquefied from the inside out. She started to cough, making no sound and exchanging no air. Iwaizumi’s heart dropped as he realized that the acid--or whatever it was--had reached her lungs.

Oikawa tugged at his arm. “Do something!”

“I can’t! I don’t know any spells!”

“I don’t know, pray? Maybe they’d listen to you!”

“It’s too late for that,” he said, as the vampiress’ frantic twitching and coughing stopped, her mouth open for a last sigh. Almost her entire torso had been eaten through, held  together only by the trappings of her corset. Iwaizumi’s stomach flipped, and he vomited into a nearby trash can.

The plan. He could think about that, instead of what had just happened, how the group behind him was cleaning up the body, how the smell mingled with the smells of the food around him. The plan.

He stood up, balancing himself on the wall. He was next to the dessert table, forks and dulled obsidian knives surrounding the cakes. He sheathed one of the knives inside his sleeve, mumbled something about “cleaning himself up”, headed to the bathroom, and locked the door.

Once inside, he took out the knife and the branch from the chapel, which was still strapped to his side. Though the blade was dull and short, it cut through the branch quickly enough. He honed the wood to a point, creating a stake. This time he bound the wood to his thigh.

Someone rapped on the door. “Iwaizumi? Are you all right?”

Iwaizumi made a retching sound before answering. It was only half an act--his insides still turned nauseatingly.

“I’m fine...just...give me a minute.” He placed the knife in the back of one of the soap drawers and washed his face before opening the door. He almost walked into Oikawa, who looked at him with concern.

“I’m all right,” he said. 

“I’m glad. They cleaned up the mess, by the way.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Oikawa nodded. “Apparently she was drinking a glass of--you know--and suddenly her body reacted really violently, like if it was acid.”

“It wasn’t, though? Just blood?”

“Correct. We tested different kinds on her corpse, and each one had the same effect.”

“Has this happened before?”

Oikawa shook his head. “Not like that. I wouldn't be too worried, though. The Court of the King usually has a few casualties. House politics, business schemes, you know.”

Iwaizumi gave a noncommittal grunt and took a drink of water and a few bites of food. It stuck to his throat, but he had to eat something, in case his plan succeeded. 

After a few minutes, the violinists started to play, filling the ballroom with an upbeat tune. The guests went back to their conversations as if nothing had happened.

Oikawa turned to him, a glint in his eye. He held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Iwaizumi wanted to decline. There was no reason to stay here any longer than he needed, and a dance put him at risk of revealing the stake imperfectly latched to his thigh. Most of the room was staring at him, waiting for the King’s reply to the Voldaren’s most eligible bachelor prince. Oikawa’s eyes twinkled like a field of stars.

He shook his head, ignoring the ensuing chorus of “Aw”s from the crowd.

“I’m not in the mood to dance. I’m actually just going to bed,” he said and made a motion to go upstairs. The knowledge of what he was planning to do hit his nervous system, and he felt a wave of anxiety.

Oikawa pulled him back until he stood only a few inches from his chest. “Are you sure?” he purred. A few gasps of “How romantic!” echoed through the crowd.

Iwaizumi fought a feeling of panic. Most of the guests were watching him for a response. The stake, his only way out, shifted against his thigh, further loosening its restraints. He had to be alone with Oikawa and without suspicion. The answer came to him in an instant.

“I didn’t say I wanted to  _ sleep _ ,” he muttered, just loud enough for their closest listeners to hear.

Oikawa froze. His eyes flashed, and a grin overtook his face. At least one of the guests whistled before the rest of them resumed their activities. The show was over.

Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi to the bedroom, shooed away the guards, swung open the door, and slammed it behind him in the span of fewer than fifteen seconds.

An instant later, Iwaizumi felt Oikawa’s hand on his chest. His back smashed against the door from the force of the shove, knocking the breath out of him.

Oikawa stole what was left of it, his mouth on Iwaizumi before he could take another, stopping only for an instant to take a breath of his own.

Iwaizumi took the opportunity to shove him backward and gasp for air. Oikawa looked wounded.

“Idiot! I just said that so they’d stop watching us!” he said between breaths.

“So you  _ didn’t  _ want to have one last night of passion?”

“No!” Iwaizumi shouted. “No, I didn’t.”

“You don’t have to be so  _ vehement  _ about it.”

“I wanted to ask about the stakes for your challenge last night, and the question you asked.” It wasn't exactly true--the answer wasn't part of the plan--but it would've bothered him if he had left without it.

Oikawa sighed. “I asked if you were willing to be sired. If you had accepted, then I would have.”

“You were going to,” Iwaizumi muttered, taking a deep, shaky breath, “You were going to turn me into a  _ vampire _ if my  _ subconscious mind  _ had agreed to it?”

“Now, keep in mind that I gave you a chance to decline the offer, and that accepting it wouldn’t have been so bad. I would’ve been happier, and you would’ve lived well. Maybe you could have even influenced our political stance towards your village--”

“Let me give you an offer of my own,” Iwaizumi said, eyes blazing. “We grapple, no magic. If I win, you help me escape.”

Oikawa paused, thinking. "And if you lose?”

“Then you can turn me.” He winced at the words as they left his mouth, his anger having slightly subsided. What had he  _ done _ ? He should’ve stabbed Oikawa when he had the chance, as he had planned!

“Enticing. I have one question first,” Oikawa asked. “If you win, would I be able to follow you beyond the estate?”

Iwaizumi glanced at how Oikawa’s eyes shifted towards the door. All he would have to do is to shout for a guard, no matter the outcome of their fight. There was only one answer.

“I don’t see why you’d want to, but sure.”

“In that case, I accept.” Oikawa took a few steps backward and started to unbutton his vest and untie the fastenings in the back.

Iwaizumi quickly gave up on untying his outfit’s many fastenings. He shrugged the article over his head, paying no mind to the sound of tearing fabric.

“Barbaric,” Oikawa said, as he stared shamelessly.

“I’m not going to fight in a  _ corset _ .”

“It’s not a corset--”

“I don’t care. Are you ready?” Iwaizumi growled, adopting a fighting stance.

Oikawa unbuttoned the last button on his vest and laid it on the bed, along with his undershirt. “You’ll have to excuse my lack of form. It’s been  _ ages _ since I’ve fought hand-to-hand,” he said, lowering into a similar stance. “I’m ready.”

Iwaizumi immediately went for a lunge, aiming to knock Oikawa off balance.

His strike didn’t land. Oikawa dodged to the side and grabbed him from below his shoulder. Iwaizumi felt his feet leave the floor for an instant before his back slammed against the ground. Instinctively, he rolled back on his feet. Oikawa stood there casually, inspecting his nails.

Iwaizumi tried a body shot next, his arm reaching in a powerful right hook.

Oikawa reacted almost instantly, catching his fist with his own. Iwaizumi winced as his arm met complete resistance, as if he had punched a wall. His other arm followed suit, the strike becoming a two-handed grapple. He struggled against Oikawa’s hold, each of them aiming to unbalance each other by brute force.

“You’re quite strong, aren’t you? I actually have to try,” Oikawa mocked.

Iwaizumi’s body, strengthened by a life of chopping wood, strained from effort. He didn’t answer, focused on retaining his breath. He started gaining ground, forcing his opponent back a half-step. Oikawa glared, his dark eyes blazing with determination, and redoubled his efforts.

Iwaizumi took a few steps back. With a final pulse of energy, Oikawa sent a final shove, toppling him to the floor. Oikawa gazed at him, a taunt in his eyes.

“You’re free to concede at any time.”

Iwaizumi swept his leg across the floor. His ankle connected with Oikawa’s, who fell backward, a surprised expression on his face.

Iwaizumi was immediately upon him. His right hand unsheathed the wooden stake and pressed it against Oikawa’s chest. A few drops of blood beaded from the prick, staining the wood and trickling down Oikawa’s bare torso.

Oikawa stilled. “Is that…?”

“You’re free to concede at any time,” Iwaizumi said, pressing the stake in a little deeper. Oikawa shouted in pain.

“Fine! You win. Just stop!”

Iwaizumi smiled and withdrew. He put the bloodied stake in his pants pocket, discretion no longer necessary, and put on a shirt and coat from a closet. He caught his breath before gesturing towards the bedroom window.

“I’m ready when you are.”

Oikawa gave a small smile and beckoned for Iwaizumi to hold onto his back, now clad in a cape and jacket. The satisfaction of victory was gone, replaced by the feeling of wind on his back, and the sight of the estate shrinking in the distance.   
  


Iwaizumi had discovered the chapel years ago, when, in a burst of teenage rebellion, he had determined how far away from his home he dared to go. It had imposed a sense of calm back then and hadn’t lost its power through the years.

 

Rowan kicked the Collar, which rang with a resounding peal. He signaled for the soldiers to surround the area so that he had privacy within the chapel and in front of the creek. They would hear if he decided to try to swim away, and even if he found an opening in the formation, he wouldn't get far on foot. Rowan approached the chapel cautiously, and opened the door, peering through as far as he could without stepping inside.


	12. Chapter 12

#### Kessig 

  


Hinata approached Kageyama the morning after their dispute, when the clouds had just started to make way for the rising sun. Kageyama had just started one of his daily rituals, and was in the midst of drawing a runic prayer in the dirt with his silver arrowhead.

“Good morning,” Hinata said cautiously. It was hard to tell how angry Kageyama was, considering that his face seemed to be stuck in a perpetual glare.

“Morning.”

“What are you up to?”

“What does it _look_ like I’m up to?”

“Does that work? What you’re doing?”

Kageyama scowled, but didn’t look at him. “It better. I’ve been doing this long enough.”

“I still stand by what I said earlier, you know. The sooner you can come to terms with yourself, the sooner you can deal with it.”

“You have a _lot_ of nerve to tell me how I should handle my own condition.”

“And what condition is that? You can’t even say what you are. A werewolf. A murderer. A _monster._ ” Kageyama winced, and was about to reply, but Hinata continued. “I’m not just saying that to make you mad.”

“Then why _would_ you say that? You want me to feel responsible for all the lives I’ve taken? I couldn’t live with that. I could just start walking into the forest, and see what kills me first. Or I could head towards Stensia, and give someone there a decent meal.”

“What? Of course not!” Hinata thought a moment. “I think you’re more likely to do that the way you’re going--”

“Or, if I live through that, I could head into Nephalia. Offer my body to the _sciences_. Maybe I could be some use there.” Kageyama grinned mirthlessly.

“Stop! Just stop! I’m trying to help you!” Hinata shouted. “I’ve seen what your way of thinking _does_ to people.”

Kageyama actually looked at him then, expression turning into some form of curiosity. “Was this when you helped lead a pack?”

“Yeah,” Hinata started. He sat down on a log next to Kageyama. “This was before I ended up running into you a few days ago. It was kind of hard to keep it together, honestly.

“We had decided, as a group, that we would turn ourselves in. I didn’t like it, but I was also the only one who accepted who I was. I thought, and still think, that my own life is worth the accidental casualty, so long as I try to avoid them. So I was against the idea, but I went along with them anyway, because we were a team, a family. We had to stay together, no matter what.

“We headed over to Hanweir, the nearest city. All of us thought that, if we were approachable and unarmed, that we could work something out. The other leaders and I even arranged a possible compromise, where we would allow ourselves to be jailed every full moon, and otherwise live normally. It could’ve worked out. And they were excited, and felt relieved that they could get past the curse that had haunted them all their lives. Even I had come around to the idea.

“So we approached the city and approached the captain of the guard. I happened to be behind the others, so I didn’t see what happened next. But I heard their swords, so I immediately reverted and ran away.

“A couple of the others had also gotten past the initial soldiers, and for a few seconds, I remembered them almost keeping pace with me. I didn’t see them after that, but I could smell them. It wasn’t for a while afterwards that I realized I had just been smelling their blood, which had splattered on me from the crossbow shots.”

Kageyama didn’t say anything, and looked lost in thought.

“So when you use prayers to feel better about yourself, I think about them, and how desperate they were to change.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense. I probably would’ve done the same thing if I were them, though. They died for a chance to make the world safer.”

“That’s how we’re different, then. I just thought you should know.”

Kageyama nodded.

“One more thing,” Hinata said, “If you still use prayers to stop your transformations, maybe sometimes you could try to force one, just to see if you can control it? I think I’d feel better.”

Kageyama gave the slightest smile. “I’ll think about it.”


	13. Chapter 13

#### Stensia

  
  


A man in white robes left the Voldaren estate, heading down the path to Nephalia without a glance behind him. 

The price negotiations had gone well enough. The person he had talked to was accommodating, confident and passionate. It reminded him of his younger years when he was still able to feel those things, when he moved through a world of color and contrast. 

It wasn’t for a lack of trying, he thought, as his staff thumped against the well-worn path. His work let him meet new people and go to new places, and he was doing the right thing. He didn’t remind himself of how hollow it felt to talk to those that he met, and how he couldn’t distinguish the places.

Even his real name had started to slip from his memory. He hadn’t told it to anyone after his discovery years ago, to avoid the irony of having it used against him. Even after he had amassed a following, the name he gave was false. The Avacynian Church might have obvious flaws, but  _ his _ wouldn’t.

Of course,  _ he _ knew the names of everyone he worked with. It served a dual purpose of intimacy and intimidation. The threat of repercussion was strong enough to ensure his own safety, at least long enough for his organization to get a foothold. Though, he mused, not everyone exactly  _ knew _ what the threat of repercussion meant. Some facets of his system were difficult to swallow for the masses, who couldn’t seem to see past the, to turn a phrase, grey lining on a silver cloud. Unfortunately, his second-in-command was too kind to know the entire truth. She was too valuable, too skilled to potentially lose in a battle of principles. Hopefully, the deal he had made would be successful, and he would have enough of a foothold that she would be replaceable. 

The man he had spoken with claimed that only the very best was suited for such a task and that he needed someone stealthy enough to get through the Church’s line of defense.The primary religion on Innistrad was his only real competition. When there was no other way to remain safe, then those too foolish to follow him from the start would know the right path.

He passed a trail marker indicating the distance from Nephalia, where his next course of action awaited.

  
  
  



	14. Chapter 14

#### Thraben

  
  


Suga waited for the sermon to end, fidgeting his wings against the rafters of Thraben Cathedral. As he had predicted, the guards had been more than enough to defend against last night’s assault, so he hadn't needed to help. It was for the better. He wasn’t a fighter, like the angelic warriors of Goldnight, or the clerics of the Herons.

The priest ended his lecture. Suga dropped from the ceiling, landing gracefully on the Cathedral’s creaky floor. He strode through the common house, then through the house of elites. He saw fewer and fewer people in the halls as he moved through the Cathedral, until he was alone. The archbishops' chamber stood in front of him, its gilded oak door shut. He heard muted shouts from behind it. The only one he recognized was from the Lunarch.

“How is it that you have all lost the sanctity of the Church? First the tariff, now  _ this _ ?”

“Sanctity has no meaning if it cannot protect itself. If you don’t agree with our tenants, we're obligated to seize control to protect the public,” another voice said.

“I refuse to allow you to do that. Avacyn is watching your blasphemy!”

“We both know  _ that’s _ not true,” another voice said. Suga barely heard the sound of footsteps over his own anger. He tried the handle, and the conversation stopped. He burst into the room, wings painfully striking the door frame in his haste.

“What are you  _ doing _ \--” the Lunarch cried,  his eyes widening in horror. Suga didn't have time to react before a heavy weight hit his head, and he spiraled into darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

#### Nephalia

 

Tadashi Yamaguchi adjusted the leather hat on his head, the angle jaunty enough to be playful, but not enough to be silly. He smiled.

“Hey, Otwin. How much for this?”

“It would be five pieces, but it’s on sale for half price.” The cashier lowered his voice and smiled mischievously. ”We round down for our regular customers.”

Yamaguchi thanked him and placed two coins on the counter before leaving the shop. He started to walk down the street, towards the alley ten or so blocks away from where he had kept Daisy. It was a bit of a walk, but Yamaguchi didn’t mind. It was nice to get out of the tower for a while and stretch his legs. All the better if he could treat himself to a new accessory.

“I like your hat,” the man walking next to him said in a monotone.

Yamaguchi turned to face the speaker. He was a rather old man--possibly a priest, judging by his white robes. He had bags under his red-rimmed eyes, and seemed rather--sad wasn’t the word, Yamaguchi thought. Depressed, maybe.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know the way to the old cathedral? I’m new to this city."

“You must be a priest, then! From Thraben, I take it?” The man took a moment before nodding. “Walk a few blocks that way,” Yamaguchi gestured, “And then take a right, and it should be right there.”

“Thank you. May I ask your name? I’d like to send in a prayer for you. People who show kindness in these hard times are worth protecting.” The man’s tone of voice didn’t change, as if he was reciting from a script.

“It’s Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

“Thank you again.” The man started to leave. He stopped after a few steps and turned around. Something in his expression set Yamaguchi on edge. “And bless you.”

An hour later, Yamaguchi reached the alleyway. It was a relief. The walk had been more difficult than usual, exhaustion slowing his footsteps. He yawned and leaned against the old brick wall. It figured that the late nights he had spent in the lab would catch up to him at some point. He just hadn't expected them to hit all at once.

Despite his common sense, he was tempted to take a nap on the cold stone ground. It would be dangerous to fall during the return flight, after all, and few people frequented this particular alley. He sat down against the wall and closed his eyes.

__

The feeling of elk fur against his hand, coupled with a familiar unearthly moan, roused him some time later. Daisy had found him. She headbutted his hand again, giving a smaller moan. How long had he been out? The sun was lower in the sky, so he figured at least an hour. He still had his clothing and silver, though he tried not to think about how easily he could’ve been mugged or killed. There  _ had _ been a series of deaths in the city, after all.

“Did you keep me safe? Atta girl!” he said, stroking Daisy’s snout. She snorted playfully. “Why don’t we go home, and show Tsukki our new hat.”

He stood up.

An overwhelming surge of pain shot through him. He braced himself against the wall in an effort to stay upright. Tears sprang to his eyes. He bit his hand to muffle his own cry of pain and bewilderment. He broke the skin as the pain became intolerable, blood dripping down his arm.

Daisy looked at him, glassy eyes full of concern. She let down a wing and nudged him onto it.

Yamaguchi barely noticed how he landed on her downy hide, or how Daisy rolled her body so that he laid, spread-eagle, on the saddle. He felt Daisy resist the force of gravity, air flooding around him in currents. He knew that he should reward her for the smooth takeoff when they arrived, but it was more of a feeling than a thought.

He had to get help, he thought in a daze, as another wave of searing, full-body pain hit him. He whimpered, and his vision flickered to black for a moment before focusing on the tower in front of him.

 


	16. Chapter 16

#### Nephalia

 

Tsukishima frowned. Not only was his project progressing at a snail’s pace, he couldn't decide what to do with it when it was finished. It was silly, as there was only one use for a remotely-powered robot with two plasma-firing arm cannons. Maybe he could spend the time on a secondary fuel source, until he decided. It had been a while since he had created a lightning-powered motor, and he didn’t want to lose his touch.

Tsukishima had just put on a rubber glove when he heard a loud pounding sound from the front door. He froze, eyes moving to the surgical tools on his desk. Cathars. Of course they couldn't have waited until he was done, and been the first test subjects. He took off his lab coat, pocketed a scalpel, and headed to the front door.

The pounding continued, this time accompanied by a loud ethereal moan. It was only Yamaguchi. But why was Daisy at the front door, and not the stable? It was dangerous for her to be seen! And why was she being so  _ loud _ ?

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold. He sprinted the rest of the way down the tower steps before throwing open the door.

Daisy was there, his friend askew across her saddle. She immediately let down a wing, causing him to roll into the tower. Yamaguchi was convulsing in agony, his skin flushed and sweaty.

“Tsukki…” he gasped. 

“Where does it hurt?” Tsukishima commanded, trying to make eye contact, but Yamaguchi’s eyes were hazy, and his pupils went in and out of focus. Yamaguchi gasped again.

Tsukishima scanned his friend’s body, but there were no visible wounds, save for a bite-mark on his hand. He put his hand on the other’s stomach to search for a ruptured appendix. The skin was incredibly hot to the touch. A fever.

“Hold on! I’m going for medical supplies!”

Yamaguchi didn't acknowledge him. Tsukishima stood up but paused as Yamaguchi’s eyes locked onto his.

“No,” Yamaguchi said, voice strangely calm. He grasped Tsukishima’s arms, his hands burning hot. Tsukishima tried to recoil, the smell of his own singed flesh hanging in the air.

“Get off of me--”

“He--” Yamaguchi stated, eyes lighting in clarity.

“Who?”

“He...he…” he whispered before his throat finally closed in pain. His eyes lost focus and glazed over.

“ _ No! _ Tadashi, stay with me!”

The smell of burning skin became overpowering, and Yamaguchi’s grip on his arms weakened.

Tsukishima recoiled, and watched, almost in a trance, as Yamaguchi’s body burst into flames. Tendrils of ivory-white enveloped his friend in an instant, the unnaturally hot fire reducing his corpse to ash in a matter of moments.

Tsukishima stood there for a long time, the sound of blood rushing in his ears, before letting out a cry of anguish. It should have been him. He deserved to die far more than Yamaguchi, who had always treated people with kindness. The worst thing Yamaguchi had ever done was being friends with him.

Yamaguchi wouldn’t even get an epitaph. The ensuing investigation would be more trouble than it was worth and could risk all that he had accomplished. Yamaguchi wouldn’t have wanted to risk losing Daisy in order for his name to be recognized by a few.

Maybe Otwin would wonder what had happened to one of his most loyal customers. His acquaintances from the black market would miss his smile that could light up the entire underground. It was more than Tsukishima could say about himself.

Daisy gently sniffed the pile of ashes before laying down. Her head cradled the pile, a useless protective gesture.

In a daze, Tsukishima swept the ashes into a small urn and returned to his lab. He gazed at his machine, lying in parts throughout the room. After what he would later learn was a few hours, his mental state turned to a different sort of fog, a haze that, had it been corporeal, would’ve been crimson.

Whomever “he” was would  _ pay _ for what he had done.


	17. Chapter 17

#### Thraben

 

Suga came to in the Cathedral’s underground catacombs, judging by the stone walls and the chill of a place that never felt the light of day. The last time he had been down here, the rooms had been storage for ancient manuscripts and spell books. Now, the room was bare except for the torches on the wall. Even the iron Collars, ubiquitous throughout the building, had been taken down, painting the wall with negative silhouettes of dust.

He couldn't move. Iron shackles suspended his arms behind his back and his legs to the ground. His wings were also bound, the joints held by a contraption between his shoulders.

He tried to speak, to shout, but the words refused to connect to the air, as if he was speaking against a hurricane. A glyph, similar to the ones the cathars used against vampire mages and demons, glowed around him. He tried a prayer to rend his chains to dust, but the glyph around him glowed with even more potency, and no sound left his mouth.

He would try again after a few hours. With luck, the silencing effect would have worn off enough for him to break. Until then, he had nothing to do but wait.

Suga hadn’t been waiting for very long when a woman walked in, clad in white robes, like a priest. She started casting a spell, drawing the same glyph as the one that had silenced Suga into the ground.

By their nature, spells were usually invoked by either a prayer or a word of power. Both were designed to invoke the mana required to cast them. The woman said neither. She instead whispered something so quietly that, had Suga not been focusing on reading his lips, he would have missed it. Her mouth formed just two words--a name.

The symbol around Suga glowed with power.

The woman turned to face Suga and spoke her next words with pity.

“I know you’re trying to do what you believe is right, but our way will save many more lives.”

Suga tried to speak but settled on a glare.

“I wouldn’t try to talk...You’ll force me to strengthen the spell, and I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t like that.” Instead of sounding threatening, the woman’s words were laced with guilt. She left without another word.


	18. Chapter 18

 

The word “cult” was a bit misleading, the white-robed man thought, face hidden behind the pale fabric of his hood. That word implied that the leader persuaded through charisma and a sense of superiority, but almost all of his associates had joined willingly, when they saw the strength of the spells he demonstrated.

A few of them left when they had discovered how much life energy the spells required, but they were only a few. He had learned their names, and then it didn’t matter. Every movement needed a few casualties, and he had done the math. It wasn’t even  _ close _ , the amount of lives he would save, especially when he took into account any sort of dissuasion such powerful spells had against, well, anything. Far more so than what they were based off of.

He climbed the stairs of his makeshift office in Nephalia, and nodded to one of the guards.

“Hello,” the guard said. He couldn’t have been older than 16.

“Good evening.” It was still light out--the sun was still near its apex in the sky--but the man didn’t know that. He hadn’t been outside since the cathedral in Nephalia had burned down.

The guard’s eyebrows rose. “Evening, sir?” he said, chuckling good-naturedly.

The man chuckled along, but it didn’t sound quite right.

“I said what I said.” His voice suddenly dropped to a mutter, and he approached the young guard, leaning towards him so that their faces were only inches apart. The guard’s soft breaths caused his hood to fall down his neck, revealing his face.

“Don’t question me,” the man finished, before he broke away from the guard and into his office, slamming the door behind him. 

There were a few spells he wanted to try out from the spellbooks he had found in the Nephalia cathedral. It was convenient that he didn’t have to modify them very much--all that was different was the source of mana. The spells that the Avacynians had been unable to cast since their protector had left were entirely open to him. He felt like a child, allowed any treat at the marketplace.

He flicked open one of the tomes to a spell that had caught his eye. It could make the wielder invincible for as long as they had energy to use. Fascinating, though a bit inefficient. Perhaps there was a way to test the spell, to modify it so it wouldn’t take more than one life per cast.

Ideally, he’d only need one source to test it, one powerful enough to last through him using it a few times. He found the solution a few minutes later, and called for one of his messengers.

Thraben it was, then. He picked up his travel necessities and headed out the following morning.   
  
  



	19. Chapter 19

#### Thraben

 

Thraben's oil-lit lanterns broke the surrounding darkness, lighting Daichi's path. The day had gone exceptionally well, he thought. His soldiers had kept up their performance, resulting in a lack of casualties. If they continued the good work, maybe he could focus on solving the mysterious deaths.  The syndrome had even reached Stensia, which meant that a serial killer was unlikely.

He passed Thraben Cathedral. Its balustrade was absent of the snow-white wings that he had grown used to seeing after a battle. Suga hadn't been there during the afternoon sermon, either. Hopefully, he had been taking advantage of the guards’ success to work on his own duties.

One of the lanterns up ahead flickered and went out, creating an almost-tangible space of darkness. The shadow seemed to shift, a sense of motion invisible and impossible.

“Halt!” Daichi shouted. The sense of motion became faster, and a piece of the darkness broke away from the whole, becoming a flat void. It raced along the walls of the buildings, in the direction of the Cathedral.

Daichi took a moment to gather mana before he let it channel through him in a blast of light.

“ _ Halt _ !”

The spell struck the darkness. Tendrils plummeted to the ground and transformed into a figure. Wisps of dark became a face, fanged and familiar.

“Long time no see, Captain.” The vampire smirked, and Daichi remembered all too well who he was.

Daichi drew his sword, which flashed with fiery lantern-light. He lunged, aiming for an unguarded section of the carapace. His opponent made an undignified grunt of surprise but blocked the strike in time.

The vampire’s eyes blazed crimson with mana. Daichi took a few steps back and weathered the onslaught. The strikes landed almost immediately after the other, each with enough force to shake his defense.

All things considered, Daichi thought, after a particularly brutal strike sent his sword flying, this wasn’t a good time for a duel. His opponent used magic designed to improve his combat abilities and could see in the dark, whereas he had already been fighting for hours. To top it off, he had run out of mana and could feel his body strain with every blow that he blocked.

The loss of Daichi’s sword sparked an even more vigorous attack, ebony strokes assaulting his shield. One hit the left side, one on the right.

Another from the right.

Another.

Another. Daichi shifted his weight to compensate.

The vampire noticed. His leg shot from under him to strike at Daichi's leg joint.

Daichi felt himself go down, heard the metallic clang of his shield hitting the ground a few feet away.

“Say hello to your friends for me,” the vampire purred, as his longsword bore through the air.

The blade didn’t reach its destination, caroming off of what seemed to be empty space. Daichi rolled to the side and grabbed his own shield and sword before glancing at what had saved him. Shields of pure will hovered in the air, a triple-formation of aether. Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita became visible, though their appearances flickered from effort.

At this point, the vampire’s spell had worn off, his eyes reverting to their void-like appearance. Blades formed in Narita, Ennoshita, and Kinoshita’s hands, mist-like but unquestionably real. They stood up and faced him as one. Daichi stood behind them, preparing for a second wind.

“I would fight more, but I have business to attend to,” the vampire said, annoyed at the stolen victory. His eyes glowed again, and he leaped backward, transforming again into a black mass.

This time, the mass became not one shape, but a cloud of several writhing forms, a colony of bats.

They flew into the Cathedral and out of sight before any of them could respond.

“It’s up to the cathars now,” Ennoshita replied after a moment, slow and measured. The others made a small motion of agreement.

“I have to help--” Daichi started.

“No. You’re shaking and exhausted,” Kinoshita said. “Thraben needs you alive and well on the front lines. The cathars and priests know what they’re doing.”

“You did your best, Captain. Get some rest,” Narita said, his voice trailing off. Daichi noticed how much effort it took for the three of them to remain visible, their appearances now as vague as clouds. It would take a few weeks for them to recover enough energy to speak again.

“Thank you,” he said before they vanished entirely.


	20. Chapter 20

#### Thraben

 

The silencing effect lasted throughout the chamber Suga was in, so he didn’t hear the heavy oak door close, or the footsteps that plodded along the floor.

“Hello.”

Suga opened his eyes cautiously, and gazed at the man who had entered. He wore a few more sigils on his white robes than the woman had. Perhaps an authority figure, then. His neutral stare was matched by the other’s equally emotionless expression. This time, Suga didn’t try to speak.

“I revoked the silencing spell for a few minutes so we can chat. Don’t try anything. I can return it in an instant, and there would be repercussions. It’s after hours, so don’t think anyone in the Cathedral would hear you.”

“What,” Suga started, but his voice was weak and hoarse. “What could we possibly talk about?”

“Anything at all. I brought food, and silent meals are always so lonely.” He brought out two bowls of warm stew, and set one in front of each of them, along with a set of spoons. As an afterthought, the man walked over to Suga’s right arm and unlocked the shackle holding it to the floor.

Suga picked up the spoon and hurled it with as much force as he could, aiming for the man’s temple.

His throw was accurate, but the spoon stopped in mid-air and fell to the ground. Suga knew that spell--it was a simple deflection ward, taught to Avacynian priests. His eyes flickered hopefully.

“You used to be part of the Church,” he said.

“Don’t make me do that again.” The man’s words dripped with malice. He picked up the spoon and laid it next to Suga’s bowl. “Eat.”

Suga didn’t pick up the spoon or the bowl, but maintained eye contact, challenging him.

“If you’re not going to eat, then fine. I won’t make you.” The man started to eat, deliberately and loudly.  
“How could you?” Suga said finally.

“Hmm?”

“How could you abandon the Church?”

The man slammed the bowl against the ground, remnants of the stew splashing around him. “How could I abandon the Church? It abandoned me! And then Avacyn left all of you!”

“She didn’t leave. No one knows what happened!” Suga shouted, but the impact was muted, his voice carrying barely more inflection than normal speech.

“She might as well have. She might as well have died, for what good she is now. Or what good she ever was.”

It took all of Suga’s self-control to remain calm. “But you’ve felt her influence. You know some of her spells. I doubt that whatever happened in the past was because of her or the Church. You can come back, talk to someone--” his voice suddenly quieted, not of his own accord.

“That’s enough out of you,” the man said, hand on the quieting sigil still untarnished on the ground. He stood up and struck Suga across his face, which startled him more than it hurt. “And that’s for making me lose my composure.”

Suga hoped he hadn’t left a mark. Anything that reminded him of this man, however temporary, was unwelcome.

“I didn’t just come here for my dinner,” the man continued. “I had something I wanted to try out. They told me your name was Koushi, right? Koushi Sugawara. Is that correct?”

Suga didn’t reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He started to mutter an incantation. After a few minutes, a few gold rings circled his body, spinning around like sparks.

“Brace yourself,” he said, as he withdrew an iron dagger from his white robes. In one swift motion, he plunged the dagger into his own chest. The blade bent as it his his skin, folding uselessly in on itself. His robe had a small rip from the impact, but he didn’t have a scratch on him.

As soon as the dagger struck, an all-encroaching surge of pain hit Suga, spreading outward from his chest, like a vise had compressed around his heart. His wings folded in against his constraints, and his body was covered in sweat, a desperate attempt to react. He didn’t make a sound, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying.

“Fascinating,” the man said, as he watched Suga writhe in agony. “Effective. Let’s see what happens when I change the conditions.”

This time, he aimed the dagger at his own neck. This time, Suga didn’t last long, his vision swimming in red, white, and then nothing but a deep, deep black.


	21. Chapter 21

#### Thraben

The man in white robes returned from Suga’s quarters a short time later, after making notes. His head swam with various ways to stress-test the spell and others he had created, and he smiled, relishing in the rare feeling of excitement. He looked up when he heard other footsteps pad along the floor of the catacombs, becoming louder as they headed in his direction.

“Good evening, Maria,” he said, eyes flickering to his second-in-command’s face, and then her hands, which held a plate of chicken and beans. “You don’t need to go in there. I already gave him dinner.”

“Oh, all right. I guess I’ll just eat this myself.”

“I suppose so,” the man replied. The smile hadn’t left his face. Maria paced uncomfortably to the side and glanced down the hallway.

“Do you think he’s close to accepting our system? I hate seeing anyone trapped like that,” she started.

“Unfortunately, I believe we’ll have to keep him here for longer. He hasn’t shown any desire to use life energies, and I worry that he could spread dissent if he’s freed before we establish ourselves.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed, and she paused before replying. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“Why would I keep anything from you? You know almost as many spells as I do, and you’re a great asset.”

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t use our system, even if he’s really pious.”

“We  _ did _ knock him out and keep him prisoner.”

“Even so, I honestly think he could look past that. Angels are supposed to be forgiving, and we haven’t treated him that badly. All we did was keep him quiet, and probably a bit uncomfortable, from the shackles. We’ve given him regular meals.” She looked at the dinner in her hands. 

“Of course,” the white-robed man said, a little too quickly.

Maria walked to Suga’s room too quickly for the man to persuade her otherwise and flung open the door.

“What have you  _ done _ to him?” she screamed.

The man winced. “Calm down. I had to test some spells, and he’s tough enough to live through its effects.” 

Maria paused and stared at him.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant--” he started, but Maria interrupted him.

“You mean there’s a chance that the source dies when we cast a spell? You told me they only caused pain and fatigue!”

“Only the powerful ones do. I’m working on them.”

“How many have you killed trying to ‘work’ on your spells? Or to convince us that your way works?”

“Acting so high and mighty, aren’t you. As if  _ you _ haven’t killed anyone.” His voice turned cold. “Are you aware that one of the Voldaren vampires died the same night as you were there, shortly after you left to meet me on the road? Do you remember her name?”

Maria didn’t reply, but her eyes widened.

“Belladonna Voldaren. As I recall, she was a countess. She was the source of your spells for the evening, wasn’t she?”

“By the angels…” Maria muttered.

“You killed her, Maria. Stop acting like you’re better than I am.”

Maria didn’t say anything, and gazed into the hallway as if she expected to see the vampiress walking towards her.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she finally muttered, more to herself than to the man in front of her.

“Get out of my sight, then.” The white-robed man started a spell, a portal that would return her to her quarters. From the other room, Suga twitched in pain.

He unceremoniously pushed her through the portal. 

The next day, he added her name to the list of resources. A few days later, he crossed it off.


	22. Chapter 22

#### Thraben

There probably was nothing to worry about, Asahi thought, as he listened to the priest’s morning sermon. He worried a lot about things that didn’t matter, and tended not to think about things that ended up being important. Was he so focused on his own life that he didn’t care about his friends? Was this whole thought process counter-productive, in its very selfishness? 

He stopped himself from dwelling on that line of reasoning. Even a few days ago, it would have been difficult for him to stop such an internal monologue, which surprised him. The only real changes in his life over the past few days were the tariff and, more importantly, his new tenants. Maybe they had actually helped him somehow. 

The priest continued to speak. Unlike the past few days, his voice had energy to it, his arms gesturing to add emphasis to certain phrases. He mentioned something about a form of power inherent in everyone, the energy tied to people’s souls, but Asahi wasn’t paying close attention.

Something felt strange about the room, but Asahi couldn’t place it. It wasn’t just that Suga was gone, though the angel’s presence would have certainly helped ease his nerves. He caught himself wishing that Noya or Tanaka were there, as blasphemous as that was. He wasn’t afraid of them anymore, and their commentary would have been entertaining.

The sermon ended, and Asahi started to leave, his footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor.

His next step didn’t make a sound, despite hitting the floor with his full weight. His next step was also quiet, and the next one, before they resumed making sounds. Asahi paused and took a step back onto the same segment of the floor. His step was again muted, and again when he stomped on it.

“Ahem,” the priest said, giving him a withering stare. Asahi nodded, apologized, and ran out of the building.

A few hours later, his arms were covered in sweat, and his mind was clear from work. He had nearly finished the last shield for the captain.

“Asahi!” a familiar voice shouted next to his ear. Asahi’s face twitched, but his expression remained steady.

“What is it, Noya?” he sighed.

“Just bored. I thought I’d hang out with you!” the devil replied, punctuating his statement with a backflip onto the rafters of the blacksmith shop. Tanaka appeared next to him.

“Nice one.”

“Thanks!”

Asahi put the shields in the front of the store for Daichi to pick up later. He started to clean up his workbench for his next assignment.

“Hey, uh, Asahi,” Tanaka said casually, “Somethin’ up with you today? You’re kinda quiet.”

“Yeah, you’re right! Asahi!” Asahi ignored him. “Asahi! Asahi!  _ Asahi _ !”

“You two are the only  _ problems _ that I have,” he said with a sly grin.

Tanaka gasped, dramatically putting his hands over his heart. “Well, we’re still around, aren’t we? You haven’t called what’s-his-name yet to get rid of us.” Asahi looked at him blankly.  “You know, who your friend recommended. The  _ angel _ .” Tanaka winced.

Asahi looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re right. I missed my chance, though. I haven’t seen Suga in a few days.” He didn’t say that he wouldn’t have done it anyway.

Noya’s eyes lit up. “Tanaka! That’s what’s up with him! His feathery friend flew the coop!”

“Hey, yeah! You’re right!”

“You don’t have to be so happy about it,” Asahi mumbled.

“Wait...you don’t think he’s  _ dead _ , do you?” Tanaka asked.

“I...don’t know.”

“Well, was there anything odd about the sermon? Did the priest mention him?”

“Not really, and no, he didn’t.”

“You don’t think  _ that _ was odd?”

“I...um. No?”

Tanaka and Noya exchanged a look.

“Certain parts of the floor didn't make a sound when I stepped on them,” Asahi said before he immediately felt foolish. “If that’s relevant, which I’m starting to think it isn’t.”

“No, wait,” Noya said, uncharacteristically thoughtful. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“They’re probably just using the catacombs for storage, or something like that,” Asahi said, but he doubted his words as he said them. They would’ve had to seal in the room to make it completely quiet. There was only one other way he knew to make something quiet--the silencing magic that cathars used when arresting mages. The priest's stern, almost angry expression he had had with Suga a few days ago flashed in his mind.

Suga hadn't been at the Cathedral for a while. At least one priest was upset with him. He hadn't heard of any recent arrests, let alone of a mage powerful enough to warrant a silencing spell.

There was no way. Unless...there was.

Asahi moved as if in a dream, placing the “Shop Closed” sign next to the pile of shields that he had made, before walking towards the back of the store.

“ _ Something like that _ ,” Tanaka said, imitating Asahi. “Hey, what are you doing?”

Asahi turned to face him. “Suga's in the Cathedral. I...I’m going to break him out.”

“I’d never thought I’d see the day,” Tanaka said.

“Our little Asahi, all grown up!” Noya finished.

Asahi reached the back of the store, where he kept his best works. He picked up a longsword that he was particularly proud of--perfectly balanced, with a satisfying weight. It glowed softly as he picked it up, the results of a priest’s enchantment from years ago.

Noya and Tanaka appeared next to him.

“Shiny!” Noya said, unearthly eyes glittering over the armor-laden wall. Asahi glanced at him, quickly looking back when the devil’s facade started to shimmer.

“You want to help me walk into a  _ cathedral _ to rescue an  _ angel _ ?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah! You’re our friend! Why wouldn’t we?” Noya replied without hesitation. Tanaka nodded.

Oddly touched, Asahi turned back to the wall. He settled on giving them each an iron cuirass, enchanted to fit a shifting form.

“Don’t worry about weapons,” Tanaka said, as Asahi fit the armor around him. “Both of us prefer to do our own thing.”

“Sure.”

The sun started to set. Asahi only ate a few bites of his meal, anticipation starting to set in. This was, by far, the most rebellious thing he had ever done.

There were only two ways into the Cathedral if you couldn’t fly. Because there were no side entrances, and because the height of the Cathedral walls protected its courtyard, the only guards were stationed along the front and back doors. The back wall was more protected than the front, which meant that Asahi, Noya, and Tanaka approached the Cathedral from the front door.

“You’re out late, blacksmith,” one of the guards said, smiling in recognition.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to the priest. I found these boys hanging around the shop, and wondered if he could take care of them for the night.” Asahi rubbed his neck.

“That’s sweet of you. Go ahead,” the guard said, opening the door. The other guard was looking at Noya and Tanaka, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Thank you. May you spend eternity in the ground,” Asahi said quickly, dragging Noya and Tanaka through the door before it closed behind them.

“That was a close one!” Noya nearly shouted, causing Asahi to stifle his mouth with his hand.

“I’m surprised that we could even walk in here. I’ve never been able to get inside this place,” Tanaka said, eying the interior of the Cathedral. “Did something happen here recently? The wards seem really weak.” He ran his hand against the wall as they continued forward, gazing at it as if he expected to be burned. Noya jumped on the spot that Asahi had mentioned, confirming that his feet made no sound against the floor. Asahi continued forward, motioning for Noya and Tanaka to follow him to a staircase.

The sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs, and a robe-covered head appeared, coated in shadow.

Panicked, Asahi unsheathed his sword and whacked the man soundly with the hilt. He crumpled to the floor and slid down the stairs.

“Wow! Nice job, Asahi!” Noya said. Asahi started to sway to the side.

“I just knocked out a priest.”

“You did. It was great,” Tanaka said. “Now move, before he gets up.”

Asahi stayed still, his eyes wide.

“Come on, Asahi!” Noya shouted, pushing him forwards. Asahi caught himself just before he fell down the stairs. “Suga--that’s his name, right?--is gonna appreciate it.”

“I hope so.” Asahi stepped around the priest’s body. At least he didn’t recognize him. He didn’t even look like a priest on second glance, his clothes cut in a strange fashion, his hood foreboding. Multiple trinkets covered his robes, signifying some kind of authority. Asahi figured he must be an obscure sub-category of priest, reserved for the upper-class. It would explain the location.

They continued through the catacombs, dodging into antechambers whenever they heard footsteps. Almost every room was empty, save for one with a few books, and another with a stash of wine. It broke Asahi’s heart. He had heard of the Church’s libraries and mausoleums from an early age when the priests’ words inspired, and there were stories of not only surviving, but  _ overcoming _ evil.

“Asahi,” Noya whispered from up ahead, staring into one of the rooms. The lack of volume in his voice scared Asahi more than any of his shouts.

Asahi and Tanaka approached the room and peered inside.

“By Her grace,” Asahi said, drawing in a breath.

Suga sat in the middle of the room, his legs, arms, and wings bound to themselves and the floor by iron chains, skin chafed raw where the iron joints held. Dirt and dust clung to his skin and wings, muddying the clean porcelain and silver tones. He looked up towards Asahi, hazel eyes alight with recognition and hope. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. A sigil on the floor blazed with light.

Suga’s eyes flickered to Noya and Tanaka. Instantly they turned to a glare. He struggled against his chains, wings straining against their binds. His mouth opened in a silent yell. It occurred to Asahi that, because he was divine, Suga could see the devils’ real appearance.

“They’re with me! They won’t hurt you,” Asahi said. He gave Noya and Tanaka a pointed look, and they nodded. “I’ll get you out! Stay still,” he said, drawing his longsword and striking the iron chain.

He had used a lot of force, but the blade bounced off of the chain without making a scratch. He tried again, to the same result.

The shimmering enchantment on the sword’s blade refused to touch the iron, appearing to fight itself before glancing off.

“Your sword’s not working,” Tanaka said from the doorway.

“I  _ know _ that.”

“Here, I’ll do it,” Tanaka replied, striding across the room quickly enough for Suga to bristle in panic. 

Tanaka put his hand around the iron chain, ignoring Suga’s expression. The chain turned red where he held it, then white, then an unearthly whitish-blue, before it melted and pooled onto the floor. He did the same with his other arm and his legs.

“I think it would hurt if I melted the one on your back, so if you still want me to do it…” Tanaka trailed off. Suga shook his head and walked outside of the quieting sigil.

“I’m all right,” he said, his usually-melodic voice hoarse and weak.

“Let’s go, then,” Noya called from the doorway, and they returned the way they had come.

The priest whom Asahi had knocked out was, concernedly, still unconscious on the steps. Asahi delicately stepped around him.

“Did you do this?” Suga asked.

“Yes.” Asahi didn’t make eye contact.

“Good.” Suga made no effort to walk around him, his feet squishing into his back and neck. Asahi made no reply, and the devils decided to give Suga more room as they walked. After a few feet, Suga seemed to realize something.

“We should arrest him, or put him in chains for questioning.” Suga turned around, but the body, which had lain on the steps only a few moments earlier, had vanished.

Asahi wrenched the contraption on Suga’s back free as soon as they reached his house, plain iron tools unfastening its hold as his sword couldn’t.

Suga beat his wings gratefully, a smile overtaking his face. Asahi felt the same wave of peace that he had felt when he had met him. His heartbeat slowed, the beats pounding with less frequency than they had all evening.

“Thank you,” the angel said but made no motion to leave Asahi’s house.

“You’re welcome,” Asahi replied. Tanaka and Noya were goofing off in the corner, unusually quiet.

A few minutes passed. Suga washed his face and hair.

“I don’t want to be rude, but don’t you usually sleep in the Cathedral?”

Suga’s eyes flashed, and the air of calm ceased.

“I don’t think I’d be welcome there. Thraben Cathedral has lost its piety.”

“All right!” Noya shouted from the corner. “Loss of piety!”

Suga picked up Asahi’s fireplace poker and was on him in a second, wings propelling his sprint into a blur of motion. He pinned Noya’s neck with the poker and shoved him to the ground.

“One more word and you’re back to where you came from.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Tanaka shouted, rivulets of fire racing along his arm.

“Guys! We’re on the same side!” Asahi shouted.

“Unbelievably,” Suga said, staring directly at Noya.

A loud thump startled everyone in the room. Suga withdrew the poker, and Tanaka and Noya jumped to their feet, fire and lightning sparking from their hands.

Asahi looked to the roof, where the sound had originated. The sound of hooves pattered across the ceiling.

“What the--”Asahi started, but the sound stopped. Suga ran to the door and opened it, prepared to fly to the roof.

Someone was standing outside, amber eyes open in surprise. His hand, prepared to knock on the door, returned to his side.

“Hello,” Suga said, peering around him to determine the source of the sound.

“The sound you just heard was me. I can explain,” the man said, walking into Asahi’s living room.

Asahi noticed how he walked: a regal but stiff gait, full of confidence. It contrasted with the rest of his appearance. His face was covered in sweat and oil, he clearly hadn’t slept in days, and his gaunt body shook, as though overtaxed.

“My name is Kei Tsukishima. I’m looking for the guard-captain or another authority that I can give information about the strange deaths.” He looked at Suga’s wings and nodded slightly.

Suga gestured to a chair, and the man sat on it gratefully. It was good that he sat down before he passed out, Asahi thought.

A sudden pounding sound came from his door, and Asahi wondered if he could handle any more surprises in one night as he headed over to open it. Tsukishima startled at the sound.

Daichi stood there, still in his armor from the days’ events.

“Something just landed on your roof. Thought I’d check out what it was, considering you live close to the Cathedral, and the attack--” he said rapidly, scanning the living room for the threat.

Noya and Tanaka waved. Suga looked at him and smiled, his wings fluttering behind him. Tsukishima glanced at him.

“I believe you’re referring to me. You merely saw my mode of transportation.”

Daichi’s eyebrows rose. "I thought gryffs were extinct."

"They are." 

Daichi started to reply, but Tsukishima changed the subject. “It’s convenient that you came here. I was going to tell him my information on the deaths, but now I won’t need a liaison.”

“Oh! That’s great! Give me a moment.” Daichi replied. He turned to Suga.

“Where have you been? You haven’t been to the Cathedral for a few days! Even after what had happened to the Lunarch--”

“What happened to him?” Suga interrupted, his voice almost a shout.

“A vampire killed him a few nights ago. I couldn’t stop him. I guess neither could the cathars, or anyone else.”

Asahi gasped. Daichi continued, directing his words towards Suga.

“It wasn’t public knowledge, but the bishops informed me and the other guards. The priests should have told you.”

“No, they imprisoned me in the Cathedral.”

“ _ What _ ?”

“The council of archbishops saw me eavesdrop on their conversation to overthrow the Lunarch and knocked me out. Asahi rescued me a few hours ago.”

Daichi turned to face Asahi, who rubbed his neck sheepishly.

“Hey, we helped!” Noya said.

“Yeah!” Tanaka shouted in agreement.

Daichi gave them his most withering stare. The two devils slinked back to the corner. If their appearance wasn’t masked, their tails would have been between their legs.

“So I doubt that the vampire was acting without orders from them,” Suga finished.

Daichi took a moment to process. “I...they were about to overthrow him...What does that mean for the Church? For the city?”

“I don’t know. Their spells were far more powerful than my own, and I can’t imagine that would change. The new order doesn’t focus on the divine as a source of power, so fewer are going to pray to Avacyn. Beyond that, I don’t know how their spells work. If it ends up being safer for the public, I can’t complain.”

“Don’t say that.”

“They only had to say the name of one person and they had enough power for their spell.”

Asahi thought back to the sermon he had heard that morning. What had the priest talked about? Something about energy inside people’s souls, he remembered.

“The priest this morning talked about channeling the power of people’s souls, if it helps,” he said.

Tsukishima, who had started to nod off in the chair, sat upright. His eyes followed Suga and Asahi’s words intently.

“The people that have taken over your Church are also the cause of the strange deaths.”

Asahi, Daichi, and Suga stopped talking and turned to stare at him. Tsukishima took out a few rolls of parchment, covered with shorthand, pictures, and clipped segments of the courier’s news articles.

“I’ve done a lot of research over the past few days. Whomever the caster uses as a source of magic will die after the spell is cast, in an often excruciating manner, and in a variety of ways,” he said flatly.

Asahi, Daichi, and Suga listened to his explanation of the cult’s operations, and how each victim had been tied to a specific spell.

“So, there you have it,” he said, gathering his belongings into his bag. “Those were the victims from the paper. I don’t know who did which one, or who their leader is, but I suspect that he’s one of the archbishops.”

“Wait a minute. You mentioned that the church-burning in Nephalia was done by one of these priests. Why do you think that?”

“Their motives appear to be the utter replacement of the Avacynian Church. Beyond that, there was a victim who wasn’t in the paper.”

Daichi looked at Tsukishima and noticed how difficult it had become for him to keep up his stoic expression.

Suga patted Tsukishima on the shoulder, but stopped after he flinched from the touch. Asahi broke the silence.

“You can spend the night here. It’s the least I can do,” he said. Tsukishima nodded. The others took the hint, leaving in their respective ways. Daichi gave solemn thanks before striding out the door. Noya enveloped himself in a flash of light, which dissipated to nothing. Tanaka summoned a column of fire, which singed a circle in the floor before he, too, was gone. Suga was the last to leave.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, a hint of desperation in his voice. Tsukishima shook his head.

“Of course not. Even  _ I _ couldn’t do anything.”

Suga blinked, confused. “What was their name? I could make sure they made it through to the Blessed Sleep--”

“No. I don’t think I’ll reveal his name, considering that was how he died. I appreciate your concern.”

Suga was at a loss for words, but nodded.

“I’m going to take Asahi up on his offer. Good night.”

“At least have this, before you leave,” Suga said. He unfurled one of his wings and plucked one of the silver feathers. It gleamed in his hand, beautiful and unassuming, metallic and soft.

Tsukishima stared at the feather as if it was sapphire and emerald.

“This is...and you’re  _ giving _ it to me…” His eyes shone with new light, one of inspiration and potential.

Suga nodded. “I won’t ask what you’ll use it for, but at least keep it near you when you sleep tonight. You could use it.”

Tsukishima smiled for the first time in days. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” Suga replied, and he left. A gentle breeze floated behind him from where he had taken off on moon-covered wings.

Asahi was asleep when Tsukishima walked into his bedroom. He had left Tsukishima half of his bed, instead of making another arrangement on a couch or the floor. His splayed body only barely infringed on the allocated space.

Tsukishima put the feather on the nightstand, took off his glasses, and laid down. Though exhausted, his mind raced. It lingered for only a moment on the new ideas brought from Suga’s feather, before turning to a now-familiar series of thoughts. A pile of ashes. Daisy’s melancholy wail. Tadashi’s grip on his arm, blazing hot.

He reached for the feather and rested his hand on its surface. Waves of gentle warmth swept through his arm, into his torso, and fanned out to his neck, other arms, and both legs. His arms, slightly twitching from the lack of sleep he had gotten since Yamaguchi’s death, stilled. He subconsciously took a deep breath, his lungs allowing in as much air as they needed. His thoughts quieted to nothing, his mind's’ eye a calm black.

 

  
  



	23. Chapter 23

#### Kessig

Oikawa waited until after Iwaizumi had been asleep for several minutes before he left their encampment. He deftly moved between the trees, his footsteps silenced by an aura he had created. His eyes focused on the dark surroundings, as befitting a creature of the night.

The "sanguine thirst", as some of his kind called it, had occupied his thoughts the past few days. He had stared at Iwaizumi on more than one occasion, his eyes pinned on the veins in his neck, so  _ prominent _ , so  _ healthy _ . Iwaizumi had started to keep a bit more distance between them as they walked on the path out of Stensia.

Now, he could slake his thirst.

Like a mirage, a loggers’ encampment appeared before him. A burly man in his thirties sat by the embers of a small fire. His eyes darted around, and his hand twitched near an alarm bell. Just out of his sight, Oikawa smirked. Next time they’d learn to have two night guards.

He crept around to the man’s back, and, in an instant, threw him off of the log. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and the bell smashed into the ground without a sound.

Oikawa pinned him to the ground, hands on his arms and a knee on his gut. He leaned in close to the man’s ear and negated the silencing spell for a few seconds.

“I know you can move your hand,” Oikawa muttered, before asking a question.

The man’s eyes looked to the left and right. He put up three fingers.

“That’s incorrect,” Oikawa said and plunged his fangs into the man’s neck. The man’s scream pierced through the campsite before Oikawa thought to reinstate his silencing aura.

The man started to thrash around, almost making Oikawa lose his hold on his artery. A minute or two later, Oikawa felt the pulse slow down, and relished in the flow of blood running over his tongue and down his throat.

A whistle of movement shot past Oikawa's ear-- a wooden arrow, now halfway impaled through the tree trunk next to him.

He followed it to its source and immediately dispelled his silencing aura. No point to it now.

A black-haired man stood a few yards away, crossbow drawn, blue eyes glaring with more venom than Oikawa had ever seen in an expression. The living-wood crossbow bolt was aimed directly at him. Oikawa knew that he should’ve been more intimidated, but the sheer physical bliss he felt made him want to laugh.

“Next one’s between your eyes.”

“Wait! Wait,” Oikawa said, his mind catching up to the situation. “How about...you  _ don’t _ do that.”

“Give him one good reason why he shouldn’t!” another voice yelled, stepping into the clearing. He was considerably shorter than the angry one and had wild orange hair.

They were interrupted by lantern-light, and the sound of leaves and branches breaking.

“He’s with me! Don’t shoot him!” Iwaizumi panted, running into the clearing. He raised the lantern and found Oikawa, smirking against a tree. Blood ran down his face, neck, and chest onto a corpse on the forest floor. “On second thought, maybe he deserves it.”

“Hey!” Oikawa retorted intelligently.

“Don’t tell me what to do! Who even  _ are _ you?” the angry man shouted.

“I’m Hajime Iwaizumi. I’m just passing through.”

“So why is he with you?”

“Good question.”

Oikawa started to say something, but the orange-haired man interrupted.

“How do we know that this guy isn’t also a vampire, Kageyama?”

“I don’t have fangs or weird eyes, I made a lot of noise coming here, I’m using a lantern, I--”

“He’s not. Come  _ on,  _ Hinata. Use your...brain.” Hinata paused for a second before nodding.

“Now that  _ that’s _ settled, I’d like to negotiate a compromise,” Oikawa said. “I’ll promise to not attack any of you ever again, and that we’ll leave well before the next full moon. Iwaizumi can help you with your lumber business until then, and I’ll offer any of my services if they’re required. There’s no cost to you, and you’d be able to get more work done for a few days.”

“Fine.”

For the next few days, they did exactly that. Working came as a relief to Iwaizumi, and he didn’t mind being surrounded by quiet, down-to-earth people like him. They were polite and seldom talked to him outside of occasional phrases like “Watch the east” or “take the broadside.” Oikawa had claimed that he wasn’t a fit for hard labor, and decided to be in charge of meals for the group. He kept to the campsite and out of Iwaizumi’s sight.

Iwaizumi let his mind wander back to his hometown. They almost certainly thought that he was dead, and he couldn’t blame them. To his knowledge, he was the only one who had escaped the vampire’s absurd holiday. If that was a point of pride for the Voldarens, then that would mean that he couldn’t return to his village for a while. It would be the logical place for him to go. If they had stationed even one vampire to watch for him, then a return trip would be suicidal.

By the same logic, it was likely that Oikawa could never return to his home. By helping Iwaizumi, he had condemned himself. Whether he knew that before he had agreed to leave was another story.

Iwaizumi dwelled on that for a bit, before packing away the days’ work and returning to the campsite. Oikawa stood in front of the fire, roasting a boar on the spit. Kageyama and Hinata were in the midst of a trivial but passionate argument.

Oikawa served the boar. He had roasted it perfectly, even making an herbed crust. He gave everyone else a large serving, but only a few bites for himself, to taste.

It tasted as succulent as it smelled. Iwaizumi’s first portion was gone in only a few minutes. His second serving took a bit longer, but was no less enjoyable.

The people around him, barring Oikawa, kept eating, taking thirds and fourths. A few even went for a fifth serving before showing signs of slowing down.

“That was very good. Thanks,” Iwaizumi said, over the sounds of their eating.

“You’re welcome." The others made grunts of agreement, mouths still full. The boar carcass was almost completely gone.

“You guys can sure eat,” Iwaizumi said amicably.

Everyone at the fire stilled and glanced at him. Oikawa shook his head slightly.

“Yeah, ha ha,” Hinata stammered before Kageyama punched him in the shoulder.

One of the men offered to cut and save the rest of the meat. Oikawa accepted and beckoned to Iwaizumi to walk with him.

As soon as they were out of eyeshot of the group, Iwaizumi turned to him.

“What just happened?”

“I swear, Iwaizumi. You’re so  _ dense  _ sometimes.”

“What? All I did was make a friendly comment!”

“They’re  _ werewolves _ .”

Iwaizumi stopped walking. His heart immediately started to race.

“ _ What _ ?”

“What did you think they were? A random group of loggers in the middle of the forest? Some villagers who got lost? Come  _ on _ .”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Iwaizumi said, shaken and a bit embarrassed. He must have been so focused on the thought of safety that he hadn’t realized the danger he was in.

“It seemed rather obvious. Also, you’re pretty safe, as long as we leave in the next few days. There wasn’t a real need to.”

“It wasn’t  _ that  _ obvious. How did you figure it out, anyway?"

Oikawa made a lackadaisical gesture. “I guess we  _ monsters  _ just know each other.”

Iwaizumi ignored the passive-aggression. “That can’t be true.”

“Oh. Right.”

They kept walking, reaching a clearing as the sun started to set. A few boulders reached out towards the evening sky, flat enough to lie on.

Oikawa checked the surroundings before he gestured for them to do just that.

They watched the sunset for a while, the gentle blues and violets turning into the deep black of the night. The waxing moon shone in the sky.

Iwaizumi glanced at Oikawa, and noticed how his eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight, like a cat’s.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said quietly, to not disturb the night. “I have a question.” Oikawa nodded and then, realizing that Iwaizumi couldn’t see him, gave a consenting hum. “Did leaving with me mean that you can’t return to your home? Will they kill you on sight for being a traitor, or anything like that?”

Oikawa sighed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t figure that out. If they don’t kill me on sight, I’d imagine Rowan would have a few choice words to say about my position for the throne and cast me out when he receives the title.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Then why would you leave with me, instead of allowing me to escape? You could’ve denied everything and kept your title.”

Oikawa laughed, once, with a sort of sad condescension.

“I can’t believe that you haven’t figured it out.”

“Maybe you should  _ enlighten  _ me, then.”

Oikawa’s voice became more gentle, and he continued to gaze at the stars. “I saw something in you, from the start. And even though you think very poorly of me, that doesn’t mean I think the same of you.”

“It isn’t. The guard had a ton of iron in his blood, and some chemicals that are only found in their species.”

Iwaizumi didn’t respond for a while, lost in thought. “I thought it was just lust.”

Oikawa shook his head. “Not only that. It would’ve broken my heart more to kill you than it does to know that my feelings are unrequited.” 

“And here I was, thinking that this was too sentimental,” Iwaizumi chuckled, his voice breathy with an emotion he found difficult to place.

Oikawa stilled next to him, eyes locked with a ferocity that he had never seen on him. Iwaizumi wished that, just once, he could speak with tact. For now, he decided to change the topic, giving himself time to organize his thoughts and emotions.

“I don’t hate you specifically, if it helps. It’s hard for me to get past how your kind only exists by killing others.”

Oikawa averted his eyes to the sky again and tried to keep the steel out of his voice. “They teach the newly-sired that vampires’ lives are inherently more valuable than those we hunt, so a lot of us justify it that way. Personally, I don’t buy into that.”

“What do you do?”

“I try not to think about it. I also give my targets an opportunity to escape, usually by a riddle. That way, they live or die by their knowledge, and not purely by chance.”

“I’d argue that it’s just chance that they were selected anyway.”

“I’m very aware of that, thank you, but I’d rather not constantly question if I deserve to live.”

Iwaizumi didn’t know what to say, He laid there uncomfortably for a few minutes, trying to find something to lighten the mood.

“Um, the stars are nice tonight,” he offered.

“Wow, that was  _ almost _ subtle. But yes, I suppose they are.”

Iwaizumi ignored the sarcasm-- it was warranted, to some extent--and kept going. “Didn’t you say you liked stars earlier?”

“Well, we  _ are _ looking at them, so that’s an astute observation.”

“No, I mean,” he paused to remember, “you learned to fly because of them?”

“That’s right.” The sarcasm had left Oikawa’s voice. Iwaizumi turned to face him and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you familiar with what stars are made of?”

“No, I’m not. I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“They’re essentially giant worlds, like this one. And you know what else?”

“What?”

“No one knows what’s there. So sometimes I look up and think that maybe, on one of them, there’s a way for this to work out. For me to not be the way that I am.”

With that, Oikawa stood up, and they walked back to the campsite, not saying much else except for “good night.”

They left the following day, heading for Thraben.

 

  
  



	24. Chapter 24

#### Thraben

Daichi felt as though something about the city should have changed, considering that Suga had been freed, the Lunarch had been killed, and malicious priests had taken over the Church. Despite everything, though, the morning sermon still commenced and the soldiers still followed his orders.

Suga had talked to him early that morning, anxious about whether he should tell the citizens of what had happened. He eventually decided that their faith in what they knew as the Church was more important to their safety, at least in the short-term. It seemed like a good idea to the captain. He didn't want to mention it, but it was also likely that the townspeople wouldn’t believe Suga. An angel claiming such heresy wouldn’t sit well. The gallows had recently been refurbished, and sat upon the hill, waiting for such an occasion.

Daichi was thankful that one of his inferiors had offered to lead the defense for the day, which allowed him to search the people going to and from the city. It was a nice change of pace and offered him time to think on how to react to the Church’s new leadership.

In the afternoon, few people entered the city. Most travelers arrived in the early evening, having adjusted their travel to be in the brightest part of the day for as long as possible.

So, it surprised Daichi to see two young men walking--not even on horseback!-- up to the gate, with very few supplies. Even from a distance, one of them seemed very tense. He walked stiffly, stared straight ahead, and barely acknowledged his companion. As they approached the gate, the man’s nerves were even more apparent, though the other one--an attractive man in his twenties, and clearly upper-class-- seemingly didn’t have a care in the world.

“Stay here for a minute.” Daichi used his most commanding voice to hide his curiosity. “I have to ask you a few questions before I can let you two in.”

“Ooh! Okay.” the cheerful one said, giving Daichi a wink and the other man a nudge. “Hajime, pay attention when beautiful men ask you questions.”

Daichi coughed politely.

“I told you not to call me that!” Hajime replied. Daichi noticed how much the man was sweating.

“You found a good place to stay, then.” Daichi waved them through the gates. The spiky-haired man visibly relaxed after setting foot in the city. For just a moment, Daichi wondered if he had made a mistake.

“Why did you two come to Thraben?” Daichi asked, looking pointedly at Hajime.

“We wanted a nice, safe place to spend our honeymoon!” the other one exclaimed without hesitation, beaming up at the captain.

Daichi smiled, immediately realizing why Hajime had been so tense. Sure enough, he stiffened even further, and very obviously had to stop himself from shouting at the other. There was a time in the captain’s life when he was as anxious with his personal relationships.

“You found a good place to stay, then.” He waved them through the gates. The spiky-haired man visibly relaxed after setting foot in the city. For just a moment, Daichi wondered if he had made a mistake.


	25. Chapter 25

#### Thraben

 

It hadn’t been that long since his meal in Kessig, but damn it, Oikawa was _thirsty_. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to keeping up his human appearance. He shifted in his bed in the room that Iwaizumi had rented for them.

His heart started to race with the idea of indulging on one of the nearby townspeople. The blacksmith a few doors down had caught his eye as they looked for a place to sleep. His sweat-soaked shirt showed the veins in his arms in the most _delectable_ way. It had been all too easy for Oikawa to trace the man’s steps a few blocks to his house.

Iwaizumi was asleep on the other bed, his breaths occasional sighs. Satisfied that he wouldn’t wake up any time soon, Oikawa opened the window, escaping through it like water.

He glided between buildings, a malevolent, invisible shadow in the dark. The house's window opened as easily as the inn’s. A cross-stitched pattern hung on the wall with the name "Asahi" in the corner. Oikawa could spot the figure--Asahi, he figured-- on the bed, a pile of blankets rising and falling with each breath. It was almost too bad that he had to wake him up.

He approached the bed, initiated the silencing spell, and clasped a hand around the man’s mouth.

The man heaved, his lungs trying to get more air before his eyes shot open. Oikawa removed his hand, cut off the silence, and muttered a question.

Asahi's eyes widened further, darting in every direction, while he tried to move from the bed. His chest shook, from both the force of his heartbeat and the adrenaline through his veins. The bed squeaked from the movement before Oikawa reinstated his spell. The only sounds that he would make were the answer to the question or his last gasp.

Oikawa looked at him after a few minutes, patience wearing thin. If he never answered, that was the same as answering incorrectly.

Another minute passed. Oikawa decided to end it. He moved over to where Asahi had sat, gentle eyes downcast in defeat. He moved his fangs down to the man’s neck.

Without warning, Asahi swung his hand around and punched Oikawa in the face. Even though Asahi was clearly panicking, the blow hit hard enough to knock him a step backward. Oikawa gave a small grunt of surprise, the sudden attack breaking what concentration he needed to keep the silence potent.

Oikawa flinched, regaining his bearings as Asahi jumped off the bed and grabbed a dagger from a nearby desk. Oikawa gave a feral grin and lunged forward, black eyes and extended fangs creating a terrifying visage.

As Oikawa expected, the element of surprise worked in his favor. Asahi froze, an instant that he couldn’t reclaim. Oikawa’s arm caught the dagger and sent it flying, its silver blade clattering on the floor near the window.

His other arm found Asahi’s wrist, and he twisted it around the man’s back, positioning his fangs for the fatal strike--

\--It didn't land. Oikawa's back smashed into the wall behind him. His head followed with a crack that blackened his vision. An instant later he was up again, bewildered. For some reason, he didn’t feel hurt.

Asahi wasn’t in front of him anymore, replaced by a short boy with sparks dancing from his hands and eyes. Oikawa blinked, and the boy had shifted, his appearance changing into a more animal form, hunched over, with curved horns and a forked tail.

“It takes a few minutes,” the devil growled. “It’s funny, how one shock leads to another.”

Shock, Oikawa thought hazily. That’s why he wasn’t in pain, and why his cape was on fire. The notion that he should flee rolled over him as if he was drunk.

“Iwaizumi’s not-not gonna like this,” Oikawa muttered, not realizing he was speaking out loud. “Give me a hard time to-tomorrow, for sure…”

He walked towards the window, ignoring how the devil shifted to position himself between him and the blacksmith.

“Another t-time, then,” Oikawa said, as he neared the open window, giving Asahi a pained wink.

“ _No_!” another voice roared.

Oikawa watched as a bolt of heat struck the open window, liquefying the glass, which dripped through the opening, a white-hot barrier.

Another devil appeared in a blaze of fire, three horns glowing red with mana. Oikawa plucked the silver dagger from the ground, ignoring how its handle, blessed from many incantations, tried to slip from his grasp.

The three-horned devil pounced towards him, powerful claws aiming for a fatal strike.

It took almost all of Oikawa’s remaining energy to roll sideways. He dodged the strike by only a few inches, but landed his counter-strike, creating a shallow cut from the scaled haunch to partway down the tail.

The devil hissed, the cut turning black with ichor.

“Careful, Tanaka,” the other devil growled. “He’s feisty. A couple minutes more, and he’ll be easier to deal with.”

The three-horned devil--Tanaka, Oikawa realized-- took the phrase to heart, and took a few steps backward, waiting for Oikawa to strike.

Oikawa felt his chest start to burn, responding to the bolt’s initial impact. It spread outward through the rest of his core and torso, inflaming every nerve ending and pore of his skin. He gave a groan of pain and leaned an arm against the wall, trying to catch his breath. The glass in the window was still red-hot and liquid, dripping from the sill.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Noya cackled. Oikawa closed his eyes, gathering the rest of his strength. He missed the concerned glance that Asahi sent Noya.

“Don’t let him suffer! Just finish it. There’s no need for this,” Asahi shouted, picking up the dagger that Oikawa hadn’t realized he had dropped.

But as he stood up, he realized that Oikawa wasn’t there anymore. In the space between seconds, he dove out the window, at the mercy of the breaking day.

  



	26. Chapter 26

 

 

Iwaizumi woke up to Oikawa jostling his shoulder, breath heavy as it dripped down his neck. Iwaizumi fought the instinct to shove the arm off of his shoulder.

“Ih-Iwaizumi,” he labored, breath forcing its way through the words.

Immediately Iwaizumi was alert.

“Are you hurt?”

“Yeah.”

Iwaizumi felt ice race down his spine. “Where?”

“My ch-chest, and arms,” Oikawa replied before his eyes closed, and he slumped over a bit.

“Hey! Don’t pass out on me!” Iwaizumi splashed water from a glass on the nightstand onto Oikawa’s face.

Oikawa’s eyes opened again. “Feels nice….” he slurred.

“Hold on!” Iwaizumi called, running for wet washcloths, which he placed on Oikawa’s chest and arms. The marks on his arms were red, surface-level markings, but the burns on his chest looked more like a web of tattoos.

“What the hell…?” he muttered, but Oikawa was drifting in and out, and offered no reply. “Tooru! Stay awake!”

“I’m so thirsty, though…” he muttered.

Fair enough, Iwaizumi thought, as he gave Oikawa a glass of water. Who wouldn’t be, after being burned so badly?

Oikawa drank the water, and the next glass, but looked no less parched.

“Hajime…”

It dawned on him what Oikawa was asking for. Iwaizumi sighed and took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

“Fine, just this once.” He positioned himself on the bed so his forearm fell to Oikawa’s mouth.

It took a few seconds for Oikawa to register what was in front of him. He slowly protruded his fangs, puncturing a vein.

Iwaizumi winced and looked away as Oikawa started to drink, becoming more lively as the minutes passed. The vampire’s pained grunts ceased soon after, replaced with sighs of pleasure. He pulled Iwaizumi closer to him to get more access to the vein.

“Okay, you’ve  _ clearly  _ had enough,” Iwaizumi stated, a little anxious. Oikawa pretended not to hear him and had a few more drops.

“Enough! Off!” Iwaizumi repeated, shaking his arm slightly. Oikawa withdrew his fangs into a pout.

“How did this even happen?”

Oikawa looked sheepish.

“I tried to feed on the blacksmith. Did you know that he has two  _ devils  _ guarding him?”

“By the Host! I can’t  _ believe  _ you.”

“I have to eat  _ somehow _ .”

“The blacksmith, though? You couldn’t have tried to find a criminal or something?”

“All right, you  _ saint _ . If it makes you feel better.”

“It might.”

Oikawa walked over to the window, where the sun’s rays infiltrated the room. He gazed down the street, adjusting the curtains so that he could return to the bed.

The blacksmith was already out, walking down the street. He slowed his pace and turned away from the Cathedral, towards his shop, as though he had changed his mind. Interesting. He had seemed so pious.

Oikawa didn’t see how the man’s eyes widened as he noticed him through the window.


	27. Chapter 27

The clop of hooves took Daichi away from his post at the gate. A courier on a white stallion approached him.

“Read this right away. I know you’re aware of the present situation.” He handed Daichi a clean, white letter, with beautiful, compact lettering.

As Daichi started to read the letter, the messenger started to lead the horse away.

“Wait! Halt! Who sent you?” Daichi shouted, but he had already led the horse into a gallop. As they moved, the horse and rider blurred into a brighter, almost painful white and disappeared.

Daichi heard gasps of “What kind of magic was that?” and “That looked more powerful than anything  _ we _ use!” He felt his heart drop as he picked up the letter again.

His heart pounded faster as he read them. He had to talk to Suga--

“Daichi!” Asahi shouted, running towards him from the street. “Captain.”

The blacksmith’s face was ash-white, and his eyes were open wide. Daichi gestured for his soldiers to leave them.

“Asahi?”

“A vampire attacked me last night, and he said he’d be back again! He’s renting a room down the street, and he mentioned some guy named Iwaizumi…!” he rambled, words coming faster as he spoke.

“Asahi.”

“Yeah?”

“Calm down. Three breaths, with me.”

After the third breath, Daichi was surprised to realize how much better he also felt. The letter weighed on his mind, but not on the rest of his body.

“Thank you, Captain, that helped.”

“You’re welcome.” Daichi meant it. He wished that he had had the time during the last few months to help Asahi with his own demons. Daichi gave one of his captains the order to hold the gate and started to walk to his house, gesturing for Asahi to follow him.

The interior of Daichi’s house was spotless, the few possessions he had cleaned and dusted. Daichi heard the sound of wingbeats and muttering from another room.

Suga was standing in the corner of the room, fluttering his wings. He gazed across the room, looking at nothing in particular.

“Suga?”

Suga’s entire countenance changed in an instant, his eyes focusing on Daichi, then on Asahi, then back to Daichi. He smiled, but it seemed more strained than it had when Asahi first met him.

“Hello. I didn’t expect your company, Captain,” he said. “Not that I mind it, of course.” The angel chuckled. It sounded like wind through a scarecrow, wispy and dry.

Daichi didn’t acknowledge the change in tone but looked directly at him.

“I need your help. Read this letter that I received this morning.”

Suga started to read it, eyes widening in shock before he handed it to Asahi, who had forgotten the reason he was there.

 

_ Hello, Captain. _

_ You’re aware of our takeover of Thraben Cathedral. I appreciate how you didn’t alarm the rest of the town with this information. Neither of us would benefit from the ensuing chaos, after all. _

_ Please inform your soldiers that, in order to instate our values and inform the citizens of our improved system, we will arrive in force by the next full moon. _

_ I will give you until then to ensure our welcome. Thank you for your cooperation. _

_ -The Man in White Robes _

 

Asahi’s breath caught in his throat.

“What are you going to do?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If they want to “enforce their values” on the citizens of Thraben, they’ll have to get through  _ me _ first.”

“Wouldn’t you save a lot of lives by letting them in peacefully? If the people of Thraben don’t want to use the new magic, they won’t, right?” Asahi said.

Daichi and Suga turned to him. Suga glared at him, as though insulted that he’d even mention an alternative.

“Normally I’d agree, but because of the way their system works, the only people that would survive such a magic system are those that take advantage of it. If saving lives involves taking lives, then the only winners are those that are willing to kill the innocent,” Daichi replied.

Asahi thought about it for a while, before nodding.

“What would you like me to do?”

  
  



	28. Chapter 28

Iwaizumi had just gotten out of the bath, and was still wearing a towel around his waist when he heard a polite knock at the door.

“Could you get that?”

“I’m  _ trying  _ to recover from an  _ injury _ .”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and opened the door. A young, nervous man with a gentle expression smiled at him. Standing next to him was one of the most beautiful people Iwaizumi had ever seen, silver hair offset by wings folded behind his back. 

“Woah,” he gasped, before falling to a knee. 

“May we talk with your friend for a few minutes?” the angel asked, perfect smile offset by a glint of steel.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Iwaizumi replied immediately, moving to let them through. The two immediately ran past him, towards the bedroom. Only now did Iwaizumi see the weapon the angel held--a silver spear, two prongs joined at the base of the blade with the symbol of the Collar.

“ _ Oikawa!” _ he finally thought to shout but heard only a cry of fear from the other room.

In an instant, he was there, but Suga had already pinned the vampire to the wall. The prongs of his spear protruded into the wall on both sides of his neck.

Asahi pulled Iwaizumi against the wall, arms around his neck in a headlock.

“Sorry, sorry,” he kept muttering.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Suga said, but his eyes betrayed an underlying rage. Oikawa stilled around the spear, eyes locked onto the Collar.

“Could’ve..mph...fooled me,” Iwaizumi said.

“We’d like your assistance. Call it repayment for attempting to kill my friend.”

“It wasn't personal--” Oikawa started to reply, voice quiet.

“--We’re listening.” Iwaizumi interrupted.

Asahi let go of the headlock, a look of obvious relief on his face. Suga didn’t adjust the spear.

Iwaizumi looked more determined the more Suga recounted the events of the past few days. Oikawa looked guilty for a brief moment when Suga mentioned the Lunarch but otherwise didn’t have a strong reaction.

“I’ll do what I can to help, obviously. I’m not going to let your city turn on itself like that,” Iwaizumi said, before looking pointedly at Oikawa. “Doesn’t that go against your moral code? People dying because some person knows their name, without any sort of test? Just pure, random chance?”

Oikawa glanced at him before reverting his gaze back to the spear.

“All right, I’m in.”

 


	29. Chapter 29

Tsukishima bent over the iron figure that stood in the center of the lab, welding together iron plates on its legs. The pedestal it stood on replaced the stone table that had held Daisy a few weeks ago.

It wasn’t lost on Tsukishima that he was, at least in spirit, replacing the only peaceful creation that he had seen in his line of work with yet another fighting machine.

At least it was an  _ impressive _ machine, he thought, glancing over the robot’s arm cannon and extendable claw. The remote that he carried worked, as well. If only the voltaic cell that he had installed, in case of a new moon, had been able to hold more of a charge, it would be perfect.

He glanced at the feather that laid on the workbench, glittering with silver light. Suga’s gift had been the only reason he was able to sleep at all these days. Its power radiated calm throughout the otherwise-cold tower and quieted Daisy’s mournful cries.

An angel feather, offered peacefully, was a power source in its own right. Tsukishima could see where it would fit, offering at least a few hours’ worth of charge to the 

cannons. He picked it up, admiring how soft it felt in his hand. Tadashi would have appreciated that. He had always liked soft things.

His musing was broken by the slight sound of tapping. Perhaps Daisy wanted to come inside, he thought, as he opened the window. He had allowed her inside more and more often lately, her presence welcome in the quiet rooms of the tower.

“Good evening,” Suga said. The angel’s gaze stayed neutral as it glanced from the robot in the center of the room to the feather in Tsukki’s hand.

“Oh, hello.”

Suga didn’t say anything and continued to scan the room.

“I suppose you’re going to condemn me for my practice. That would be understandable. Our philosophies on life and death aren’t exactly compatible.”

“If the situation was different, I probably would. I came here to ask for your help.”

“Is this about the cult?”

“Yes.”

When Tsukishima didn’t reply, Suga continued.

“If we can’t talk down the leader, which seems likely, we may have to use force. In that case, we could use your assistance at Thraben’s gate on the next full moon.”

Tsukishima’s eyes glinted, the prospect of revenge laid in front of him. Suga glanced at him, expression one of distaste.

“I know you want vengeance on the leader. To be honest with you, so do I. But at least try to avoid casualties. Many of his followers believe that this is the way forward.”

Tsukishima put the feather back on the desk, ignoring any guilt he had for thinking about using it as a weapon. He wouldn’t need another source of power if he was fighting on the full moon, anyway.

“Very well.”


	30. Chapter 30

#### Thraben

 

The moon, full and perfect, rose in the sky a few nights later, highlighting the pale white robes and various types of armor on the opposing forces.

Daichi’s soldiers grew restless behind him, as one of the priests, an old man with a blank expression, made his way through the front lines. He approached the tall, reinforced oak door that guarded the city. Daichi ignored the mutters from the crowd that had gathered behind the door, undeterred by his orders for them to remain in their homes.

“Daichi Sawamura,” the man said. Daichi noticed how yellow sparks glowed around him, the product of an invincibility spell.

“Good evening.”

“I gather that you’ve decided against the peaceful option.” He gestured to Daichi’s soldiers and chuckled mirthlessly.

“You’re correct. The city of Thraben demands that you stand down.”

“Oh, does it?”

Some of the opposing soldiers laughed. One of them, an iron-clad vampire with a familiar face, winked at Daichi.

“We won’t tolerate your practice here. It comes at the expense of innocents.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to show them what our  _ practice _ can do,” the man finished. He raised a staff towards the gate and stepped back into the army formation.

The great door of the city glowed and flew open with enough force to knock aside some of the soldiers. A chorus of shouts rose from the crowd as they started to panic, running from the gate and tripping over each other in their haste. A few of the soldiers tried to close the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Stand your ground!” Daichi yelled, but the opposing front line had already started to engage in combat, taking advantage of the confusion. The superior training of Daichi’s soldiers started to equalize the battle, swords clashing against armor, arrows flying against shields.

The vampire assassin had already cast his own spell, eyes blazing red as he plowed through the line of guards, ignoring the gate to take out as many of the front line as possible.

Daichi ran through the carnage, deflected any strikes that came his way, and brought his sword down on the vampire’s shoulder.

His enemy responded in time, spinning around to block. When he realized who his opponent was, the vampire smirked and adopted a defensive position, eyes twinkling as if he had all the time in the world.

In his time as a soldier, Daichi had learned how to handle pain. Adrenaline prevented debilitation from battle injuries but led to inaccuracies from muscle twitching. Some aspects of training involved controlling these twitches, and Daichi had mastered them long ago.

Why, then, he thought, was his left arm shaking like it was? And why was his chest so  _ warm _ ?

The warmth quickly changed to a fierce, almost cold pain, as though an arrow had pierced his heart. Daichi retreated into a block. The vampire caught Daichi’s surprised grimace, smirk widening as though he had expected the turn of events.

The pain worsened. Daichi made a choking sound, unheard by the rest of the troops, caught in their own battles. He barely felt his sword being ripped from his hand or heard the shocked shouts from his soldiers as he collapsed. His vision faded from his still-smiling nemesis to a soft white, his last thought that of Tsukishima’s emotionless voice from a few days ago:  ‘Whomever the caster uses as a source of magic will die after the spell is cast’.

“Daichi!” one of the soldiers, the young man he had met a few weeks ago, shouted, running towards his fallen captain.

The vampire threw the boy aside, but a horde of soldiers was on him before he could finish the job, drawn by the commotion. He licked his lips. Though he fought for the money--mercenary work was a job, like any other--it didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy it.

He was so busy fighting the squadron that he almost missed Daichi’s body floating in the air, carried to the city's interior by forms that flickered in and out of sight. Those  _ damn _ ghosts, the vampire thought, performing a spin to throw the guards away from his body. His eyes shut for a split second against the wind.

A second was all it took. Only a few of the guards saw what appeared to be a beam of moonlight careen through the air into its target. The overwhelming amount of energy blasted through the vampire's body, reducing him to not even a corpse, not even dust--just invisible particles of matter in otherwise-empty space.

The young soldier followed the ray's trajectory to its source and gasped.

A fifteen-foot-tall war machine walked towards him, iron legs plowing along the path from Nephalia towards the city. Someone appeared to be riding it--no, riding a winged elk, who perched on its soldier.

“Good evening,” Tsukki said.

 

  
  



	31. Chapter 31

 

As he expected, Tsukki was met with a round of arrows, the opposing archers not taking kindly to the added reinforcement. It was fortunate for him that the machine was made of metal, and that Daisy had become adept at sudden takeoffs. The arrows ricocheted off of the steel beast and fell away just short of Daisy’s wings.

Tsukki grinned, holding onto one of her antlers with one hand and the remote in the other. So long as their forces had the air superiority, he would be safe. His machine would do the work for him on the ground.

He scanned for the leader, but the priests looked identical from the air. Surprisingly, none of them cast a spell in his direction. They hung back in a cluster, only occasionally aiding one of the other soldiers. Each of the priests appeared to be making identical hand gestures, though it was hard to tell from his position.

As one, they ceased their motions and gazed upwards, looking past him towards the full moon. Tsukki felt a jolt of adrenaline-infused dread--they had all been casting the same spell.

The sky started to darken, rays of the moon dimming to near-pitch blackness. The battle quieted for a moment as both sides regained their bearings. Sword fights moved closer to Thraben’s wall, where the glow of torches and boiling oil shone on their iron and steel.

Tsukki watched as the results of the spell became more obvious. Dark red clouds materialized from nothing, perfectly eclipsing the moon.

A sudden chorus of shouts rang out from within the city, loud enough to draw Tsukki’s attention. Something about the opposite entrance, the south gate. Tsukki guided Daisy over and disengaged the machine, allowing it to follow them.

It was obvious how the forces on the south side could see the threat, despite the very low light. A huge wyvern was flying towards the city, raining fire at random on the ground.

A little strange, Tsukki thought, as the robot plodded towards the south gate. Dragons didn’t tend to move randomly, at least when they were alive. The beast moved closer, and Tsukki noticed how lopsided its wings were, as if they didn’t belong to the body. Daisy’s wings were actually more suited to the form.

So  _ that's _ where the rest of the body had gone. They would need a lot more arrows.

It occurred to Tsukki why the cult would send out their chief weapon from a second point of attack. Not only were the cultists avoiding collateral damage, but it would take a long time for the city's archers to move to the far side of the city. Tsukki was almost impressed. If only they had thought to counter  _ him _ . He aimed the plasma cannon towards the beast’s underbelly.

The robot’s arm moved at a crawl. The plasma barely started to gather in its ammunition reserves and sparked a bit as trickled into the cannon. Tsukki pressed the button again, and again, growing impatient.

The next step the machine took was its last, finally refusing to move. The cannon stopped filling, and the guiding lights flickered and went out. He tried switching to manual but that, too, failed. A single ray of moonlight shone through the sky, taunting him. The undead wyvern had almost reached the south gate.

“Very well,” he muttered. He guided Daisy’s head towards the oncoming threat and nudged her stomach. With a growl she beat her wings, propelling them forward and parallel to the beast.

Tsukki bent his head down as they soared beneath the dragon’s lopsided wing, feeling the airstream as they moved. They were close enough that Tsukki could have leaped onto the beast, and could smell the rot of its flesh. Tsukki gripped Daisy’s antlers as she weaved faster, narrowly avoiding the thrash of the dragon’s tail.

The dragon created a blast of fire, aiming to rid itself of the pesky threat that kept fluttering around. Tsukki felt the bolt blast through the air where he had been a few seconds ago, the heat wave starting to re-inflame the burn on his shoulder.

He ignored it, and guided Daisy ahead of the dragon, listening to how its claws raked along the ground. The sound grew louder as it started to overcome the difference between them.

Though Daisy wasn’t alive, and couldn’t feel any pain, there was still a limit to what her muscles were capable of. Tsukki could feel her approach that limit. Her maneuvers became gradually slower and less agile as she strained to keep a distance from the dragon’s jaws.

At least he was able to buy the city some time. Another blaze of fire erupted only a few feet away from him, singeing his coat. It was likely that he would die by fire. Maybe he could join Tadashi, wherever he had gone.

“Hold on! I’ll take this from here!” someone shouted from, somehow,  _ above _ him, startling Tsukki out of his morbid reverie.

Tsukki couldn’t recognize the figure. It didn't help that he wore a black cape, which rendered him almost completely invisible in the already-darkened sky. A vampire, then. No self-respecting angel would conceal themselves in such a way.

The vampire landed on top of the dragon’s head and held on, despite how the beast thrashed. He cast some sort of spell, and the thrashing ceased, as though the beast was forced to relax.

It was almost certainly one of the cult’s mercenaries, coming to lead their main weapon back to the front, but it didn’t really matter to Tsukki. He had done his part. There wasn’t a point to dying now, considering how Daisy was groaning and already nearly on the ground. He couldn’t stop him, anyway. Both of his weapons were exhausted.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, landing Daisy on one of the roofs within Thraben. He gazed at the various battles around him.

The undead dragon didn’t come closer to the town, but turned westward, towards the forests of Kessig.

  
  
  
  



	32. Chapter 32

#### Kessig

 

“Damn!” Kageyama shouted as he watched magically-formed clouds overtake the full moon. His heart pounded madly, trying to become one thing or the other, but the point of no return laid beyond his reach. It was maddening--the  _ one _ time he had a reason to transform, he couldn’t. Some of the others in the pack echoed his misery, groaning in various stages of pain.

Hinata quickly glanced at him before searching the fields in front of him for signs of a fight. Oikawa had said there might be a battle, but there hadn’t been anyone around the cliff the whole evening, and the whole pack had grown restless.

A vague form became more and more visible from the sky near Thraben, as it started to approach the cliff face. Strangely-shaped wings pounded through the air.

“Is that a dragon?”

“What? You can’t just  _ say _ things like that--”

Hinata grabbed him and turned him to face the dragon. They could both see a human-shaped figure hanging from its head.

“I can’t hold it for long!” Oikawa shouted from the distance. Hinata’s heart jumped, and he ran down the long side of the cliff, anticipating his plan of attack.

“Wait! What should I do?” Kageyama asked, grabbing his arm desperately.

“You have to go with it! Believe in your ability to control yourself. Don’t just accept it,  _ make _ it happen!”

Kageyama’s eyes widened. “I don’t…”

“This is the  _ one time _ you have a reason! Come  _ on _ !”

Kageyama’s eyes narrowed, and he followed Hinata, gesturing for the others to do the same.

“Ugh! Fine!”

They all stood at the bottom of the cliff and looked anxiously at each other for a moment. Hinata seemed to be judging something.

“Okay, now!” he shouted, and almost immediately gave a groan of agony as his form changed into that of the wolf. He started to charge up the cliff, building up speed as he neared the face.

It was easier for Kageyama to follow suit than he had expected, his body finishing the change that the moon had partly wrought. Watching Hinata change so effortlessly broke the last wall. He was not about to be undone, especially by him. He followed his friend up the cliff, for once relishing the strength of his cursed limbs. The momentum grew as his powerful forelimbs plowed through the cliff face.

Hinata reached the top first and leaped from the rock face, hind legs propelling him through the air. He caught the perfect angle to maximize the amount of height that the form allowed, and bent his body in the air to further extend his reach. Oikawa had the sense to get out of the way as Hinata landed on the dragon’s neck and immediately sank his mandibles into the undead flesh.

_ Viscus vitae _ started to leak from the wound. The dragon started to falter, sinking closer to the rock face as it thrashed around. Kageyama reached the rock face next. Though his jump was less impressive, he also managed to land on the beast, clawing at the glassy eyes and underneath its jaw. The rest of the pack followed, leaking out essence with each slash and bite until the beast could no longer function. It smashed into the rock face before toppling to the ground. The werewolves jumped off of the falling dragon into the forest, howling into the night.

Oikawa watched the scene until the great beast ran dry and the fight was over. He could feel his own energy fading. Mentally guiding something so powerful for such a distance would take a toll on anybody, and he was never that great at flying. He approached a nearby shelter and laid down, mind turning to Iwaizumi. He was still in Thraben and could handle himself.

Satisfied, and a little proud of himself, Oikawa fell asleep.

  
  



	33. Chapter 33

#### Thraben

 

As it turned out, Iwaizumi  _ was  _ still in Thraben. He twirled a battle-ax as he stood among the militia near the gate. Asahi handed out weapons and armor, almost dropping them from nervousness. No one had been able to re-close the gate, but none of the cult’s forces had breached the front lines, despite how easy it would’ve been. Iwaizumi supposed that their goal was getting rid of the armed forces to recruit as many townspeople as possible.

None of the town’s mages could function, the remnants of their abilities gone with the eclipse. The lack of ranged cover showed, and Iwaizumi watched as, one by one, close battles fell in the cult’s favor.

At least that one vampire had been killed, Iwaizumi thought. He hadn’t seen most of the fight with Daichi, save for how it had ended. The giant robot had been hard to ignore, though he hadn’t seen it in a while.

Iwaizumi peered in the distance, watching for its towering form or telltale blue cannon blasts, unsure of what else to do. He found it on the south side of the city, but its lights were out, and it didn't move. A glint of torchlight from the south wall illuminated a contraption on the machine’s back--a metal sphere,  leading down to the main body with wires.

He went back to the main gate and nudged Asahi, who jumped.

“Hey, do you know what the thing on the robot’s back is? It looks like a silver ball on a bunch of wires.”

“What? No, I don’t. I don’t build robots,” Asahi said, concluding with an anxious chuckle.

“I know that, I just thought…” Iwaizumi trailed off, resuming his survey of the battle.

“Wait! You said it was silver, right? Silver is really conductive. And the wires...maybe it’s a power source?”

“But what would it be powered by? Lightning?”

Asahi’s eyes widened after a moment.

“Noya! Tanaka!” he shouted, startling Iwaizumi, who hadn’t realized that Asahi could sound that loud.

The two devils appeared, undisguised, in a blaze in front of them, drawing more than a few cries of “devils!” and sounds of unsheathed swords. Their leathery hides wore the iron cuirasses that Asahi had given them--a good idea, Asahi realized, as he noticed the many indents and slashes across the armor. Both wore grins, menacing and joyous. The heat of battle was their second home.

“Yeah?” Noya asked, sharp tongue lagging from his mouth from exertion. Tanaka was also panting, skin blackened with ash.

“See if you can charge up the robot by the south wall.”

Noya’s eyes perked up further. He and Tanaka glanced at each other, expressions a grotesque version of wonder.

“All right!” they growled in unison and flashed out of sight.

A few seconds later, Iwaizumi and Asahi saw a bolt of lightning streak from the sky.

The crowd cheered as a bolt of plasma rocketed through the air and struck one of the priests. Even through the sound of battle, they could hear Noya’s ecstatic yell and the ensuing pounding of robotic feet. Noya perched on the lightning vane, and Tanaka sat in the cockpit. Asahi looked a bit guilty.

“What have I done?”

Iwaizumi clapped him on the back and didn't reply.

Another series of shouts arose through the crowd, along with mutters of “the captain?”. Iwaizumi felt his heart sink in his chest, both wishing that he had seen more of Daichi’s battle, and thankful that he hadn’t.

Daichi’s body hovered lengthwise through the crowd, which parted to make way for him. The ghosts carrying him flickered in and out of sight, but together had enough strength that the captain never dropped. They settled him on a nearby platform, before vanishing completely.

Asahi got to him first and called for a medic. Daichi was still breathing, though his breaths came shallow and ragged.

A few torturous seconds later, Asahi's plea had reached the front line, and after another few seconds, had reached Suga. He took to the air to escape the fight he had been engaged in and landed behind the gate, immediately running to the captain.

Asahi leaped backward as Suga knelt next to Daichi, wings splayed behind him in a sort of shield. Suga placed one hand on Daichi’s chest and started to chant, a low string of syllables, ancient and primal, belonging to a school of magic both distinct from and harmonious with the Church, too powerful to be entirely stopped by the eclipse. His hand and eyes started to glow a soft gold. He didn’t move, his now-blank gaze focused entirely on the captain.

“You should cut your losses,” a flat voice called from the gate. It belonged to a nondescript old man, who ambled to the platform, robes trailing behind him. The few opportunists that tried to strike him found their weapons glancing off his skin, not even close to breaking his invincibility spell. Iwaizumi and Asahi glared at him as he stood on the platform, a few feet from Suga and Daichi. He casually tossed his only weapon, a bent dagger, to the side of the stage.

“You could save more people by pulling your soldiers from combat,” he continued, glancing at Suga. “What good is supposed to come from all of this fighting? What are you going to gain when your soldiers are destroyed, when the most pious give their lives to defend an archangel who’s  _ never _ coming back? You may as well let us through. You’d be at the mercy of whoever needs to defend themselves, but surely that’s more heroic than this continued slaughter. A few of you would be martyrs, deaths accidental but necessary. More of you would live. We’re here to save lives, as much as it may not look like it.” He gave a dramatic pause. “If you agree with me, then I can save your captain. It doesn’t seem like your feathery friend here is really up to the task.”

The crowd started to mutter amongst themselves. A few looked towards Daichi, a few, towards the battles taking place just outside of the gate. Iwaizumi walked past the speaker and faced them.

“I know some of you are thinking about it. What could be so bad about ending the fighting right here? It’s just a shift from the Avacynian Church to this new system, right?

“I’ve never been that religious. It wouldn’t matter to me if one figurehead was replaced by another, if that’s what was going on.

“He said that you’d be at the mercy of those who would defend themselves, though I’m not sure if any of you knew what he meant. Their whole system of magic relies on taking the strength from other people, so some of you would die when your friends cast a spell.”

Some people in the crowd gasped, but most nodded. The man who stood behind Iwaizumi spoke, just loud enough for Iwaizumi to hear.

“They don’t care about that. A death is a death, right? Better to die by a friend.”

Iwaizumi glared at him. Something felt  _ off _ about the system of logic, but he couldn’t quite figure out how to articulate it. He continued in the hopes that the words would come to him.

“Even then, this might sound like something you’d want, right? If there’s more of a chance to fight off any invaders, maybe they’d stop coming. If we only use the magic as a last resort, then maybe no one gets hurt, Daichi lives, and so do all these soldiers. It  _ seems _ enticing.

“What it  _ actually _ would do is make the deaths random. Fewer people would die in combat, but more people would collapse on the street, a victim of chance. There wouldn’t be too many more deaths, but they’d be of the more innocent, those that haven’t had a chance to fight.”

The crowd quieted as much as they were able to, the sounds of battle still around them. Asahi steeled himself before starting to clap.

At least a few people followed his lead, and the clapping became a roar.

“Now, now, settle down,” the man behind Iwaizumi started to say, taking his place on the stage.

He was immediately met with boos, the crowd refusing to let him speak.

The longer he stayed on the stage, the more raucous the crowd became. Iwaizumi had to restrain a few people from the stage, worried that they would crowd Suga, whose glowing eyes had started to dim.

A few minutes later, the robed man sighed, his shoulders dropping. There was no way his plan could succeed if the majority of the population was opposed. He had given his point--the most he could do now was try to stay sympathetic, and to stop the deaths of his own forces. They had lost the battle once the robot had returned to the front.

“Very well,” he muttered, and cast a ray of light into the air, signaling a surrender. 

The sounds of fighting slowed down, ceasing entirely within a few minutes. Groans of pain rang through the air, uninterrupted by the clash of steel.

The man dissipated his invincibility spell and walked across the stage to Daichi, who stopped groaning in pain. 

“I may still be able to save him,” he said, loud enough for some of the chanting crowd to hear.

Suga continued to ignore him, focused on keeping Daichi alive. His spell appeared to be less and less effective, the glow almost depleted. The captain’s breaths came slower and slower.

The crowd booed before quieting to silence. The robed man stayed at the back of the stage, watching as people in the crowd closed their eyes, relying on the school of magic that they knew.

Though the moon was still covered, a surge ran through the crowd as they bent their heads to pray for Suga’s success and for the idea--no, the certainty--that their savior would return.

The wave of devotion was palpable, an undercurrent weaving through the air before hitting Suga. His eyes, a fading white, blazed with mana, power suddenly exploding through his hands. His wings fluttered as the new power raced through his body, channeled through his nerves and out into Daichi’s body. He was a conduit, charged with more raw faith than he had ever been.

Daichi coughed a few times and sat up, eyes opening on Suga’s intense visage--eyes clouded with mana, gold running through his arms and eyes. He made a small, startled noise, causing Suga to end the spell.

Suga blinked a few times, ridding himself of the mana-fueled glow that still leaked from his eyes. He helped Daichi to his feet and thanked the cheering crowd, mana still racing through his veins.


	34. Chapter 34

 

Tsukki gazed at his machine, now powered by Noya hanging from the lightning rod and controlled by Tanaka, who sat in the cockpit. He had set the control scheme to “direct” once he saw the glee in the devils’ eyes.

A beacon of light caught his eye, fired upward from the town square. He followed it to its source: one of the cultists, who didn’t stand out aside from where he stood--the center of the stage, in front of a massive crowd.

The leader, then.

A haze overtook Tsukki, as he led the now-somewhat rested Daisy back into the air. The leader, who led the destruction of its chapel back in Nephalia, the one who  _ used _ Tadashi, who  _ killed _ him. Tsukki nudged Daisy’s stomach with his foot, urging her faster. He didn’t notice how the crowd had bent down or how it cheered as two figures stood up. He took Daisy up higher in the sky, aiming her down into a dive, straight towards the robed figure standing at the back of the stage.

“Stop!” Suga shouted from the stage, but Tsukki ignored him. The robed man noticed his approach but made no effort to move.

An instant later, Daisy suddenly jolted upward, all momentum lost, almost causing him to fall off her back.

Suga stood there, hovering above the ground, wings flapping slowly. He lowered his hand, which still glowed, the result of the deflection spell that he had cast.

“Don’t give them a martyr!” he shouted, before lowering his voice a little. “Killing him won’t return your friend. You can get past this.”

Tsukki didn’t say anything, but took out the remote, and switched the control scheme off of “direct" and towards "remote”.

Tanaka and Noya shouted in annoyance as the robot stopped its playful stomping. Once the battle ended, they had had a lot of fun terrorizing some of the troops, testing how close the machine could get to the soldiers before they ran away.

Now, none of the buttons Tanaka pressed responded. He and Noya leapt off of the machine to see it turn around, towards the city.

Tsukki aimed the machine’s cannon, figuring out what arc would produce the desired result. It helped that the robed man didn’t move, and that Suga stayed to the side. Suga was saying something, shouting at him, but he wasn't paying attention.

The robed man held out his arms, as if beckoning the crowd to watch. His face, so often expressionless, broke into a smile.

The smile had a more powerful effect than the shouts, or the voice in the back of his mind that knew that Suga was right. He felt an almost physical sense of disgust when he saw it, and hesitated on the remote’s switch, before abstaining entirely.

He shouldered the remote and returned back to the machine. A few of Daichi’s soldiers restrained the robed man, who didn’t make any effort to resist.

Tsukki left before he could catch another glimpse of the man, who still wore a resigned smile.

  
  



	35. Chapter 35

 

A few days later, Oikawa visited Thraben’s prison. It had been nice of Daichi to give him clearance, he thought. He wouldn’t have been that offended if Daichi had never let him back into the city, but he had granted him access without hesitation. Daichi had even shown him where the criminals were being held.

The jailors recognized Oikawa as he strode down the halls, determining who would be his next meal. They all had some justification to be chosen, especially when he didn’t have too much, and left them a living anxious mess instead of a dead one.

He avoided the man in white robes, who resided in the “treason” block. He had never fully understood his story, nor had he ever learned his name, but everything about the man suggested that he had had enough bad luck in his life. Oikawa also had the feeling that, if he had still stuck to his system of tests, the man would have passed every one.

He tried not to think about the next day, when Hajime would return to his home village. There was no way Oikawa could follow him, and he had gotten the impression that he shouldn't. The village wouldn’t be friendly to having a vampire in their midst, especially from the estate that had terrorized them for decades. Even if Hajime managed to convince his village to let him stay there, it would be dangerous. Rowan wouldn’t appreciate the fact that Oikawa was still alive and a potential threat to his title. Oikawa didn’t want to risk the safety of the village for...what? To live close to his friend? That seemed selfish.

Perhaps he could visit occasionally, or send notes through carrier hawks, or the courier. Maybe Hajime could come back to Thraben sometimes, or they could meet in the middle. Once Rowan was supplanted by someone else, he could return to the estate.

Iwaizumi would still be in the village. He'd be another wise old man, telling stories to the village children about the time he escaped from the vampires’ clutches, or about how he had moved Thraben against a cult leader. Perhaps he would even mention the debonair vampire prince who gave up his title to save him.

Oikawa finished what he had come to the prison to do and walked to the apartment.


	36. Chapter 36

 

Tsukki started to clean up his laboratory, leaving a small space on his workstation for his final project. There was no need for perfection anymore, he thought. The thrill of battle was never enticing to him, just the power that came with it. Even that--the feeling of overcoming another--had lost its appeal soon after the battle, replaced by soft introspection and flowers around a grave.

A few weeks ago, dropping his singular pursuit would have been unthinkable. Now, it seemed as though picking up the tools again would only serve to remind him of what he had lost.

He finished the work--a small, birdlike skaab, with reinforcement around the wings and a pouch for storing mail. Tsukki intended to use her as a mail carrier between him and Thraben. He supposed that the others could use her, too, for whatever correspondence they wished. It was nice to have made something peaceful, but he felt more relieved than anything.

He decided the following day that he would move out of the tower. Another town would do him good. Not the hustle and bustle of Thraben, but one of the outlying towns. He heard Stensia had a few relatively safe, sunny villages on its outskirts. The sun seemed...nice. It would be nice.

One more dinner by the fireplace, he thought. He used to like their fireplace more, when fires didn’t make him flinch, didn’t rekindle the pain on his arm. He lit the logs anyway and watched the flames jump about as he ate his meal.

A muted presence by his side caused him to pause. It felt warm and soft and gently wrapped around him, enveloping his body in something close to a hug. Tsukki opened his eyes, which he had closed involuntarily, but saw nothing, not even the faintest wisps of aether.

“Tadashi?”

There was no response, but the warmth continued, unmistakable. Tsukki found himself thinking that, if this was the only way his friend was able to reveal himself, then he was glad that it was like this, warm and comfortable. Words would have been difficult, sights, even more so. Tsukki felt himself relax. Tears started to stream down his face, but he didn’t pay attention to them.

He rested there until the presence dissipated. The warmth gradually faded, until only the fire kept him company.

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

Daichi resigned from his post a few days after the battle. He gave his title to an up-and-coming young lady named Thalia, who was highly recommended by her peers and exceptional with a sword.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job, he mused, as he gave her the silver badge. It was more that he had seen his fair share. She undoubtedly would also have a chance to shine.

With any luck, it would be a little boring without the cult around. The necromancers around the town hadn’t attacked for a while, choosing to gather their forces, waiting for something. It wouldn’t be his problem to deal with, at least. He would do his duty when the time came, but one of the perks of retirement was not having to think about it until then.

It didn’t help that his heart gave a little stutter sometimes, an aftereffect of the battle. Suga had taken to checking up on him when he wasn’t guarding the Cathedral, now reclaimed by the townsfolk.

He passed the blacksmith’s shop on the way to his house. Asahi was working too hard, as usual. Sometimes, when he passed by, Daichi heard him giving a small yelp of pain, or chastising the devils, now permanent residents. Daichi laughed as he saw Asahi chuck a handful of salt into the rafters.

A few minutes later he arrived at his house. Suga sat on one of his chairs, a sad smile over his face.

“Good evening,” Daichi said. “Is something the matter?”

“No, not at all. I’m preparing for my duties. It’s been a while since I could afford the time.”

“Oh.” Daichi sat across from him with a sigh. “Give them my best.”

“Of course. I’ll see you in a while.”

Daichi watched as Suga’s eyes blazed, his appearance shifting in and out before vanishing.


	38. Chapter 38

 

Suga found himself in a familiar, stark place. Behind him was a sort of shifting, darkened pit, leading into the world of the living. In front of him was a barren, seemingly endless hallway. It was somehow much easier to walk back through the hallway, back towards the pit, than through it. The living world was always in sight, and always reachable, a tempting offer to the souls who kept walking forward.

It wasn’t that different from the way it had always been, Suga thought as he walked forwards. In the past, there were more of his kind to help them and less of an obligation to stay to help.

He continued forwards, unaffected by the dilation in distance. His title, bestowed by Avacyn herself years ago, prevented him from wandering. He could come and go as he pleased, and both sides were a mere walk from each other.

Sooner or later he found the three that he was looking for. Unencumbered by the weight of remaining corporeal, their entire bodies were visible, and covered in the armor they had worn when they died.

Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita glanced up at him, hopeful.

“Hello,” Suga said. “Daichi sends his regards, by the way.”

“Well, give ours to him,” Ennoshita said,

“Of course.”

They chatted for a while before Suga gestured for them to start walking with him down the path.

A few souls followed some ways behind, leaving them enough room for conversation while still affected by Suga’s influence on the realm.

As he always did, Suga scanned them, seeing them off with at least a glance and a smile. One of them, a nice-looking brown-haired man, smiled in return. He looked like he recognized Suga, which was interesting--Suga would have remembered such a gentle face.

He beckoned him over.

“Hello. What’s your name?”

“Tadashi Yamaguchi.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but it looked as though you recognized me.”

Yamaguchi looked sheepish and put one hand on his neck. “I..uh..may have spied on you a little bit, when you were with my friend.”

Suga’s eyes widened in realization. “This friend..was it Kei Tsukishima?”

Yamaguchi nodded.

“I think you should go to him, give him a last farewell.”

Yamaguchi shook his head. “I already did. He’s doing a lot better, from what I can tell.”

“Ah.” Suga paused. “It’s sort of a shame that we have to meet here, of all places.”

“I’m just glad that I got to meet you at all.”

Suga smiled.

In a few moments, they reached their destination--a wall, stark-white and brighter than the hallway.

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita approached it first. Suga firmly shook their hands.

“Rest well, soldiers,” he said before they passed through.

The others were next. Suga shook their hands in turn as they passed.

Yamaguchi was last. Suga hugged him, wings wrapping around both of them.

Suga watched Yamaguchi relax, his nerves shuddering off of him as he let go. He walked towards the veil and stepped through it, becoming less visible, then gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I don't own any property alluded to or used in this--specifically, Magic: the Gathering or Haikyuu.


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